Trials and Tribulations
by The Magnificent Kiwi
Summary: With only a month to go until her wedding, Suze has a lot to do. So the last thing she needs is to be tracking down a murderer. Especially when her less than perfect sleuthing skills put her life at risk. Sequel to Only the Good.
1. Prologue

**Sequel to Only The Good. A distraught ghost who was murdered on the morning of her wedding approaches Suze for help. Will Suze jeapordise her own Big Day to help this lost soul? Will she even have a choice?**

**Trials and Tribulations**

_**Prologue -** A Lobster Called Susannah_

"Right, sunblock?"

"Check."

"Cooler?"

"Check."

"Water?"

"Check."

"Towels?"

"Check."

"Great, now get your damn keys." I groaned as Gina grabbed her beach bag and the cooler and hurried over to the carport. Watching Gina hurry in platform sandals is extremely amusing, let me tell you. Heaving my own bag onto my shoulder, I followed her, pulling my car keys off the wall hook as I passed.

Yes, I have my own car! It was an 18th birthday present from my mother and Andy. All Brad got was an XBox 360! It was a 2000 Chevrolet Impala LS, according to Jake. I'm not too good with cars, so I don't know. It was getting a lot of use lately, as well. Gina had arrived from New York at the start of the summer holidays. Which was earlier than usual, because I have left school! Yes, I am eighteen and free to terrorise the world. I aced my SATs (although not as well as Jesse did) and been accepted to my first-choice university (to study psychology...I figured that I am constantly helping people, so why not make some money out of it...who knows, I might even meet a few more mediators). Yes, the same university were Jesseis currently studying medicine. It's within reasonable travelling distance from Carmel, so Jesse still lives in his old apartment, enabling him to see yours truly whenever he wants. Which happens to be all of the time.

Gina's sole purpose, it seemed, was to turn me into a lobster. She had arrived in Carmel three days ago and I was already very red on the shoulders and legs. Any browner and I'll be Jesse's natural colour. But that was not the reason that she was here, oh no. She was here to help me prepare for my wedding. Yes, Jesse and I are _finally_ getting married! The date has been set...August seventeenth. It is currently Junetwenty-seventh and I am still lacking bridesmaids, caterers, music, a venue for the after-party (so to speak) and...a dress! Yes, I still lacked the most important part of a wedding. And at the rate things are going, I will be walking up the aisle in flip flops and an OTT tan. With Gina it's always "we'll do it tomorrow", but tomorrow never comes! I had pointed this out to her, but all she said in reply was "whatever...pass me more sunblock, I'm burning a little".

It was all I thought of all the way down to the beach, where we set our towels out and lay down, me in the shade of a giant parasol which was embedded in the sand next to us. For extra protection, I wore the highest SPF sun cream that we posessed and my Billabong one-piece, but I could still feel myself burning. The water in our cooler didn't help; it was warm five minutes after it was removed. It was an unusually hot day.

"So...what's it feel like?" Gina asked me as I fumbled in my bag for my sunglasses. "Being engaged, I mean. Especially to a guy as hot as Jesse." I smiled. The first time she had seen him, she had reacted the way I had predicted ("Wha-You're engaged to...phwoar!"). And I couldn't answer without causing her to groan. CeeCee had already banned me from talking about Jesse because I apparantly went all gooey whenever I did. But can you blame me? No, I didn't think so.

"Wonderful," I replied, reaching up to bend the parasol further forward. It was huge, but somehow did not cast a shadow on all of me.

"You know, you're probably going to be the only girl in your college who is married," she pointed out, a fact that I was well aware of. Debbie Mancuso once told me that college would be "like, uber boring" for me. Why? Because I couldn't go out, get drunk and end up in bed with some guy who's name I don't even know? That's not exactly my idea of fun. Not when I could do out, get drunk and end up in bed with my husband. Something I pointed out to her, which caused her to groan in frustraion and tell me that I "just don't get it". When I replied with "Don't get what? Hepatitis?" she called me a loser and stormed off, probably to rant about me to her cronies. Over the years, I have become a pro in the field of insulting Debbie Mancuso. Adam even suggested once that I do it for a living. But I had no desire to take money off freshmen to insult Brad's sometimes-girlfriend. Not when I was more than happy to do it for free. But Debbie had become completely foul. Even Kelly Prescott, her so-called 'best friend' had stopped defending her every time I launched a verbal assault on her.

But enough about Debbie. It wasn't as if I would be staying on campus anyway. I didn't even bother applying for a place. I mean, Jesse and I are already looking for a place of our own, so there was no point, really. Gina, however (who had secured a place at the same university as me...studying fashion design. She had wanted to study law, but failed to get the grades.) had applied for - and got - a place on campus. It was great to know that she would be around all of the time now. I have really missed seeing her.

"Hey, where _is_ Jesse today?" She asked, shaking the tube of sun screen she had stolen from my bathroom cabinet.

"College," I told her. "Finals. His last one is today."

"He should ace it. You know, you really have got the perfect guy. He's hot, funny, charming, obviously head-over-heels in love with you, _and_ he's intelligent. Not like the guys I attract." I laughed. It was like some major role-reversal had gone on. It used to be me, always complaining that Gina got all the good guys and yet here she was, wishing that her boyfriends were half the man that mine is. It felt good, believe me.

"So...anyway," she said after pulling a freezing bottle of water out of the cooler and emptying it on my stomach. My punishment for laughing at her, I guess. "Hows about tomorrow, me and you take your step father's credit card and go find the perfect dress for your wedding."

"You're kidding, right?" I sat up, propping myself upon my elbows. She shook her head. "Ok then...why _Andy's_ credit card?" She smiled at me as if it was obvious.

"Well, isn't the father - or stepfather in your case - supposed to pay for the whole shebang?" My mouth hung open. Andy couldn't pay for the whole thing, he had only just paid half the pice of my new car. Alright, so it was a present, but I checked the Chevrolet website (yes, bad Suze), and the car I had cost at least $26,000. If I let Gina take charge of my wedding, then that would just be the price of my dress. Or my freaking veil!

"I don't think so," I told her, tilting my head back."Besides, isn't that a little old fashioned?"

"Well, Jesse is old fashioned." She had me there. "He was born in eighteen-something, wasn't he? But think about it...you and Jesse don't have much money. If you don't let your parents pay for at least some of it, it's going to bea fairly boring day. And if Madame Zara was right, then you're never going to marry again, so don't you want to make your big day extra special? And don't you _dare_ say 'as long as we're together it will be special'." When she said this last part, she made her voice all squeaky. I threw my empty bottle of water at her.

"We'll figure something out." But I knew that I would have to accept financial support from my parents. I worked as a staff babysitter at the Pebble Beach Hoteland Resort,but that was only during the summer. And not everyone tipped as generously as the Slaters. Although Jesse's job as a curator at the Historical Society Museam (he no longer gave talks) paid well for what he did (extremely well for what he did, in fact),a full-blown wedding was way out of his price range. Then again, so was a diamond engagement ring, but he seemed happy enough buying one for me.

We must have lain there for hours. But eventually, we had emptied the cooler and Gina had to trudge up to the shop to refill it (hey, I wasn't getting up!). She had been gone for two minutes when a shadow loomed over me, blocking out the sun.

"That was quick," I said, not bothering to open my eyes.

"What was?" Oh my _God_! I reached over to grab Gina's towel and hide my burnt bits.

"Jesse, I thought you were at college!" I screamed.

"I was," he replied, kneeling next to me and smiling at my efforts to cover my red legs. Have I ever mentioned that Jesse has a gorgeous smile. It's the kind of smile that makes you never want to hurt him. Because you never want him to stop smiling. Jesse had barely changed over the past year; his hair was slightly longer, but other than that he was the same Jesse who had haunted my bedroom for one hundred and fifty-oneyears. I'd like to say that I had changed, but unfortunately I remained a mirror-image of my sixteen-year-old self. Just without the acne.

"I knew you would be here," he said, pulling Gina's towel away and eyeing my lobster legs. I would like to say that he was eyeing them with a feral look in his eyes, but he was simply examining them. "Is every injury you sustain self-inflicted?" He tore his eyes away from my hideous legs and scrutinised my face. I mock punched him on the shoulder.

"Almost. How did the exam go?" I enquired. He dropped his jacket onto the sand next to the cooler and sat beside me.

"It was difficult," he answered. "But I knew I could see you at the end of it." He leaned over and slowly kissed me on the lips, drawing back as I leaned into him. He smiled and reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. Tease. I have to say, ever since he proposed, the getting to second base thing wasn't so much of a problem anymore. But we still hadn't went the whole way. And I had stopped wanting to. He had done so much for me (including choosing me over his nineteenth-century life), the least I could do for him was to wait another month. And my theory was that if I didn't think about it, I didn't want to do it so much.

"Gina is taking me out tomorrow to look for a wedding dress," I told him. He didn't react, just waited to see what I would say next. "So..." I continued, not wanting to disappoint him. "I don't want you to go anywhere near any bridal shops. Or near _any_ shops, in fact. The last thing I want us to do is curse our marriage before it even begins."

He smiled at me again. I love that smile.

"I just can't believe that we are getting married," he said. "When once I believed that we would never be together." I shuffled closer to him and leaned my head on his shoulder.

"Even if you were still a ghost, I'm sure we would have found a way around the marriage thing," I said, surprising myself. Because the truth was that I didn't care if my friends and family (excusing Gina, CeeCee, Father Dom, Paul and David, of course...except Paul would not be my friend if Jesse was still dead) thought that I lived my entire life alone, never dating a single man. Because Jesse is the only man I would give up a normal life for. But I didn't have to now. Because he is visible and capable of procreation. Not that that will happen for a while. I'm too young to have kids. I (and a few others) think that I am too young to be getting _married_, but I don't care. I love Jesse and I want to spend the rest of my life with him, regardless of what anybody else thinks.

"Thank you, _querida_," Jesse whispered, turning slightly to kiss me on the head.

"For what?" I enquired.

"For loving me when I had nothing to give." I felt his arm wrap around me. That has got to be the most romantic admission since he confessed that he enjoyed it when it was just me and him - back when we were just friends. And, of course, since he told me he loved me.

"Thank you for letting me," I replied cheekily. He laughed at this. Because the truth was that at first he had no desire to let me love him. He seemed convinced that he was not worthy of me, that I deserved someone so much better, so much more..._alive_. But he was worthy. And I was glad that he eventually realised this.

A groan and a sarcastic exclamation of "not you again" signalled that Gina had returned with more bottles of water. Jesse just grinned and greeted her. He knew what Gina was like, unfortunately.

"So...you know that I'm stealing your fiancee tomorrow?" She asked him, dropping the water into the cooler.

"Yes," he replied, looking uncertain, as he always did when talking with Gina. Gina stared at him, waiting for him to say more, but he did not. He turned to look at me and smiled again.

"I had better go," he said. Yeah, he just didn't like being near Gina when she was lacking caffeine. And we were fresh out of coffee at chez Ackerman.

He kissed me goodbye (just a peck, unfortunately) and made his way home, probably to change...he would be back. My eyes followed him all the way back to his car, eyeing him up (as you do). When he drove away, I turned to look at Gina who was observing me with amusement.

"Girl, you've got it bad," she laughed. I smiled as I lay back down on my towel. I didn't care if I was getting burned. Of course I had it bad.

As I lay there, I tried to picture the perfect dress in my head, hoping that I would find it tomorrow. What I didn't know then was that I would be finding a lot more than a dress.

* * *

**AN - Here we are, the sequel :). The prologue is always bad, lol...just setting things up. I didn't mention Paul much here, but I'm thinking of giving him a reasonably-sized role in this. I'm not too keen on the title of this story, but I was fresh out of ideas. I was going to use 'Even The Bad' but thought it would be lame, lol. What do you think? Should I change it?**

**Anyway, I hope you liked the first chapter (it will get better, I swear).**

**Disclaimer - I don't own the characters or the background story.They belong to Meg Cabot.**


	2. The Woman In Vera Wang

**Trial and Tribulations**

_**Chapter One -** The Woman In Vera Wang_

Why do most of Carmel's bridal shops have to be in the mall? Are they encouraging people like me to have a nervous breakdown before their wedding day?

"Maybe we should stop for lunch or something," I suggested, fanning myself with my bare hand. I wasn't even hot, just stressed. In reply, Gina grabbed my arm and dragged me over to a travel agents that was sandwiched between Victoria's Secret and Gap. I had never even known that it was there.

"We'll just have a look here first." I groaned. We had already been in three shops and not a single one stocked a dress that I would allow myself to be seen in. They were all either too poofy or too...not there. Seriously, who would want to flash half of their thigh in church? Even if for some incomprehensible reason I wanted to wear a dress like that, Jesse would never let me. Not on our wedding day, anyway. And I wanted to make this day extra special for him; I knew how much it meant to him.

"There's also your honeymoonto sort out," Gina explained as she pushed me through the door.

"Well, I was going to leave that to Jesse. He hasn't really got anything to do yet," I explained and Gina started eyeing up the last minute deals toEurope.

"God, Suze, leave a job to a man and it will neverget done. Here. How about Italy? Two weeks in Sorrento for $899 each. Or a week in Cyprus for $749 each." I grunted. Italy would be nice, but I was hoping for somewhere less...busy. I wanted the weeks after our wedding to be just me and Jesse...alone. And not for _that_ reason. Well, alright...not _just_ for _that_ reason.

"Well where would you like to go? Jesse's Spanish, right? How about Spain...two weeksinCosta del Sol for-" Gina started but I cut her off before she could finish.

"Somewhere...secluded. Like...I don't know...The Maldives...or...or...St. Lucia. I've always wanted to go there," I told her. She raised an eyebrow at me. Those places would be expensive. "See, _this_ is why I wanted to leave this to Jesse."

Gina seemed to resign herself to the fact that I would never decide on one destination, so she picked up a handful of brochures, shoved them inti her bag and then left the shop. That was a big waste of time. But she wasn't finished with me yet. Dragging me to the last bridal shop in the mall, she started to lecture me about procrastination and how if I didn't get my ass into gear, there wouldn't _be_ a wedding.

This shop was no different from the others. The dresses were hideous andthe assistants tried to push you to but the most expensive one. But, just to make Gina happy, I tried one on. It wasn't that bad, actually. The top half was a plain white basque with a white flower sewn onto one of the top corners, and the skirt was a heavy,stiff material that hid my feet and trailed out a few foot behind me.

I stood infront of the circular mirror in the changing rooms. Whoever owned this shop sure liked to go OTT. The mirror's frame was painted white and had pink, red and purple plaster flowers attatchedto it, all joined by an unpainted stem. It was hard to concentrate on my reflection, with all that going on around it. But I could see enough to know that I didn't like it. And it didn't just take my eyes to figure that one out; the basque dug into my armpits, producing angry-looking red marks. I sighed in resignation. Maybe I would never find a dress. Maybe Jesse and I would end up getting married in a registrary office in jeans and sneakers.

I shuffled - I had no choice but to shuffle in that damn skirt - over to a chair next to the cubicles. I pulled the bottom of the dress up around my knees, but the back still trailed on the floor. I attempted to pick this up, only to cause me to drop the front. Screaming in frustration, I dropped the whole thing and settledwith leaning against the wall. That's when I heard it. A gentle sobbing in one of the cubicles. But surely I was hearing things; I was the only person in the changing rooms. The sound was coming from the cubicle directly opposite me. The curtain, which had been pulled back before, was now covering the entrance, hiding its occupant. I guess it was possible for someone to sneak in behind me. I shuffled over to the cubicle and drew back the curtain, concerned for whoever this person was. When I hooked the curtain to the side, the occupant quit crying and looked up at me, astonished that I had bothered to check on her. She was a young girl, around twenty or so, and wore the most beautiful bridal dress I have ever seen. Her light-brown hair was pulled back into a complicated-looking updo which was framed by a crystal (possibly Swarovski) tiara. She stood up when I looked at her and I could see that the skirt ofher dress fell about a foot pasther ankles; not three foot past them like the one I currently wore did. The dress was simple. It was white and made out of silk or a silk-like material which pulled in towards the centre in two places. The dress seemed tight down to the knees, then flowed loosely to the ground. The over-the-shoulder straps were beaded and the neckline was 'V' shaped. It had no intricate designs sewn onto it, but it still remained beautiful. No doubt it was a Vera Wang: I had seen a similar one on her website. I wanted to ask her where she got it, then I realised that it would be useless. Becuase this girl was glowing, and not because she was pregnant or anything. This glow was an in-your-face 'I'm not of this world' glow.

"You...you can see me?" she asked. I nodded. I get that a lot. "Then...are you the...the mediator?"

"Something like that," I replied, keeping my voice as low as I could. Her tears seemed to evaporate when she heard my reply, although she still wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

"I need your help," she told me. I rolled my eyes. Why else would she come toa mediator? For a little chat?

"Look, I'd love to help you, but I have a month to plan a whole wedding," I explained. "And every dress in this damn town makes me look like a freaking porcelain doll! And the ones that look half-decent are _way _out of my price range." The girl just stared at me. She was obviously rich when she was alive (or at least her parents were) to be able to afford a Vera Wang dress and a tiara made from Swarovski crystals. I didn't even want to see her shoes.

"But...you have to help me!" She exclaimed, close to tears once more. I sighed.

"There are three other mediators in this area that I know of," I informed her. "Jesse de Silva, Paul Slater and Father Dominic at the Mission. Why can't you go to one of them?" She looked up at me like I was insane.

"But..." she said, her voice full of alarm. "They're all...boys, they wouldn't understand. I was murdered on my wedding day! How can two unmarried boys and a priest know how that feels? I chose you because you are female. And I apologise for the timing, I did not know that you were engaged." I assured her that it was alright.

"Look, Jesse is my fiance," I told her in my most comforting voice, laying a hand on her shoulder. "He was actually murdered on his way to his own wedding, so I am sure that he will be able to understand what you are going through." I decided to leave out the part where he was actually going to call the wedding off. "And Father Dom can understand anything. And Paul...actually, you'd better _not_ go to Paul."

"You're...marrying a ghost?" She asked, completely bewildered.

"No...he's alive now," I explained, stifling a yawn. "It's a very long story."

"Well...if you are sure," she said. I could tell by her voice that she would rather have me deal with it. She dematerialised just as I heard a voice from behind me.

"Suze...who were you talking to?" Gina asked. But when she saw my dress she seemed to forget all about it. "Oh my God! That is hideous!"

* * *

It was six o'clock by the time I returned home, cleaned up and then made me way over to Jesse's apartment. Of course, no dress had been bought, no honeymoon had been booked and no shoes had been chosen. Andy's credit card returned to its rightful owner in the same condition that it was in when it left his hands that morning. 

Jesse had given me his spare set of keys, so I could let myself into his apartment. When I opened the door, I expected a huge welcome. After weeks (at least it seemed like weeks)of exams and revision, he was finally free, and we could finally have some 'alone time'. But judging by the look on his face when I walked in, 'alone time' was the last thing on his mind.

"Why did you send her away?" He asked, his face showing no expression. I sighed. So the dead bride had taken my advice. First time that has ever happened.

"Jesse, I just didn't have time to deal with her," I told him, truthfully. "Do you know where I was when I found her? I was trying on a wedding dress. Which made me look like one of those novelty toilet roll holders, might I add?" I couldn't believe that she had told him that I had sent her away.

"That's no excuse to refuse to help someone!" He said, angry for some unfathomable reason.

"Um, hello? Our wedding is just over a month away! All we have is the date and the place. I have no dress, there is no honeymoon, no food, no music, no bridesmaids. I don't have time to help out lost souls." I did not wonder why he was so angry. He got like this every time I coudn't - or wouldn't - help a ghost. At least he used to. Ever since he came back to life, he has allowed me to do things my way. Until now, apparantly.

"Susannah, she came to _you_ for help," he half-shouted. "Not me, not Father Dominic, not Slater. You should-" I held my hand up to silence him, getting pretty furious myself.

"Hey, this wedding isn't going to plan itself!" I yelled back at him. I didn't want to yell, but my voice seemed to be controlled by my anger. I had no idea why I was angry, I just was. But I was also hurt. Hurt because he would rather I help this girl than plan our wedding. "You know, I thought you wanted this to go without a hitch - and yes, I do realise the irony of that. But the truth is that you haven't done Jack shit since you proposed. And now you're on my back about helping this girl? I can't do a million things at once. Right now, it's either get this thing right or help that girl. What do you think I should do?" But Jesse didn't reply, he just stared at me as if I had suddenly sprouted an extra head. I was so confused by his look that I actually lifted my hand to my face to make sure there wasn't anything stuck to it. And then I realised that his silence must mean that he didn't want to answer that. At least I thought it did. So I said "fine, I get the message" and turned to leave. As my hand rested on the door handle, I heard footsteps and his hand suddenly came over mine.

"_Querida_, I'm sorry I raised my voice," he said, his lips mere inches from my ear. Suddenly, all the hostility that had built up inside of me was washed away by the sound of his soft voice. I desperately tried to cling to some of this hostility, but it was no use. His free hand rested on my upper arm and he was behind me, making all excape attempts futils: even if I could open the door, I could not move while he was stood there. I tried to shrug his hand away, but it remained where it was.

"Don't do that, I'm mad at you," I told him, in a last-ditch attempt to convince myself that I was still angry with him.

"I am sorry," he repeated. "I didn't know that you felt that way...like you had to choose between this and the wedding. The girl can wait." As his lips lowered to my neck, kissing the tender skin oh-so gently, I realised that the reason he had remained silent was because he was shocked, not because he wanted to call off the wedding. I should have known better, really. Given a choice, he would always choose me. So, I let my hand fall from the door handle and he caught it. I shuddered as his lips reached the skin behind my ear. I kept reminding him that we should keep physical contact to a minimum until the wedding night - purely because it was torture, knowing that we couldn't take it further- but he kept conveniently forgetting. I was about to remind him of our little 'arrangement' when he spoke once more.

"Tomorrow, why don't we look for a honeymoon?" he whispered, his lips brushing my ear as he spoke. "And we can sort out some music. I'm sure that your stepfather won't mind helping to sort out the catering, and there is lots of time for you to find a dress. Don't stress yourself out." And I wouldn't. Jesse was like my own personal stress-ball. Except I couldn't squeeze him hard. Or throw him at people. But when you've got a guy who kisses like Jesse, you don't need a sack full of flour.

I decided to forgive him this time, hoping that this argument would be our last. But I couldn't help wondering about the girl. I knew then that it wouldn't be the last I saw of her. And somehow...I was glad.

* * *

**AN - Dang it, the first few chapters are always so slow, lol. And I've got a lot of spare time on my hands ATM, so I've got nothing better to do than write. But...it's back to school next week and I'll probably have the start-of-term homework rush.But I'll try and keep up-to-date with the updates (excuse the pun).**

**I've been working on the first chapter to another story since the last chapter of Only The Good so I might post that aswell if I ever get the prologue done. It's an idea that has ben running around in my head for ages and it's really starting to annoy me. If I do get it up, I'll probably alternate in updates...or just update whichever chapter I get done first. But I won't forget about this! This will be number 1 priority :).**

**And I do realise that I am rambling again...I can ramble as much as Suze when I get going.So, I will thank all of my reviewers, and the 100+ reviewers for Only The Good and leave you to review :).**

**Disclaimer - I only own the plot and the dead bride...who's name I don't know yet.**


	3. Sun, Smiles and Sorry's

**Trials and Tribulations**

**_Chapter Two -_ **_Sun, Smiles and Sorry's_

I slept unusually well that night, considering that my mini-argument with Jesse was still bothering me, and a pocket of guilt over turning my back on the dead bride that had formed in the back of my mind. Why was I feeling guilty? One of the bridal magazines Gina bought for me said that planning for a wedding is considered 'me time'...as opposed to 'legions of the undead time'. Except the magazine didn't say 'legions of the undead'. So, I managed to convince myself that I was feeling guilty purely because I had not asked her where she got her beautiful dress from. The price on the website I saw it on made my eyes water. Even Kelly Prescott's 'daddy' wouldn't have been able to afford it.

When I woke up the next morning, I felt well rested and ready to...look for a honeymoon! That's right...Jesse was taking me out. It's about time that he took an interest in this wedding, other than looking forward to it. One of the things I discussed with my mother the previous night, upon my return, was the rush to get the wedding sorted. So, she said that she would sort out the decorations and the DJ or band and Andy would take on the catering (knowing him he would probably cook everything himself). All I had to worry about was my shoes, dress, veil, the 'somethings' (you know; old, new, borrowed, blue), the bridesmaids and the honeymoon and song for our first dance (which Jesse would be helping me with). My mother insisted that she would take care of everything else.

I slipped into a white cotton skirt and pale blue cami before rooting around for a cardigan to cover my arms. It was hot out, but Gina had used the last of my sunscreen and I didn't want my newly-recovered skin to burn again. My legs, however, were still red, but my jeans rubbed against my skin, irritating it even more, so I had no choice but to wear a skirt. At least this one went down to my shins so the worst of the damage was hidden.

Jesse picked me up at around 11am. This summer I only worked a couple of days a week, what with having to plan the wedding and all, so I would usually still be in bed at this time. But Jesse is an early riser. He even laughed - _laughed!_ - at me when I held my skirt to my thighs when I climbed into the passenger set of his car so that my skirt didn't hike up and reveal my lobster legs. I just grunted at him and pulled the door shut, pulling my skirt straight. I'm sure that laughing at me is his favourite hobby. Although, so is kissing me, so I'll let him off.

Jesse knows that I don't like malls and (unlike Gina) never took me to one unless it was completely necessary. So, he took me to a travel agents in the town center. It was twice the size of the one Gina dragged me into yesterday, and was stacked, wall-to-wall with brochures. Thankfully, all of the employees were busy with other customers, allowing us to look in peace.

"Where would you like to go?" He asked. His arms was around my waist and he guided me away from the last minute deals (all of which seemed to be to European destinations...save for New Zealand, but that was for early September). I allowed my eyes to drift over the brochures that were lined up infront of where I know stood. My eyes finally came to rest on a brochure for the Maldives. I dragged my eyes along that row to see brochures for St. Lucia, Trinidad & Tobago, Barbados. My fingers slipped into my shoulder bag and began to finger Adny's credit card. That man was a fool for telling me to book 'whatever I want'. I guess he was being so generous because I am the closest thing to a daughter thathe will probablyever have. But he was a fool. Jesse must have read the expression on my face (which was no doubt one of longing) because he turned to face me.

"Susannah, your stepfather told you to book whatever you want," he told me. "So do that. Don't worry about the price." I turned back to the brochures, this time with another dilemma on my mind.

"Alright, but...I want us to go somewhere we can be alone, so the Maldives is perfect, but..." I trailed off as I gazed longingly at the beautiful scenery on the front of the St. Lucia brochure. I imagined lying on the beach, in Jesse's arms, watching a sunset over those beautiful mountains. Then I thought of the two of us scuba diving in the Maldives. Something I had never done before, but I'm always willing to try out new things. I twisted my face, causing Jesse to laugh at me. I punched him lightly then closed my eyes and reached out infront of me. I felt my fingers glide across thegloosy surface of a brochure and I found my way to its spine and pulled it towards me.I tore my eyes open to read the cursive script that was the title. St. Lucia. I smiled.

"St. Lucia, I want to go there," I told him. It ws best that he didn't know how much it cost to go there. But if Andy was - and I am pretty sure that he is - taking care of the catering personally, then we would save a couple of hundred dollars. A couple of hundred dollars which could easily be added to the 'honeymoon fund'. Jesse seemed happy with my choice; he agreed that the island looked beautiful. One of the previous customers left, allowing an employee of the travel agents to approach us, offering her help.

"Um, yeah. We were wondering if there are any flights to St. Lucia on or soon after August seventeenth?" The woman smiled at us and invited us over to oe of the many desks lined up against the brochure-free wall. She typed on the keyboard of her computer for a few moments before smiling again and turning to look at us.

"You're in luck," she stated. "There is an uninterrupted flight to St. Lucia from Carmel International Airport leaving at 6pm on August seventeenth." I smiled so much I thought that my face would split in two.

"Can we book two seats, please? And...um...some accomodation," I stuttered. I wasn't used to this...usually my mom booked our holidays when I was at school, so I had no idea what to say. Jesse, on the other hand, obviously did since he laughed at me again.

"_Querida_, calm down," he said through his smile. The woman ('Carol', her nametag read. Actually, it read 'Hi, I'm Carol', but you know what I mean) smiled at us again.

"First holiday together?" She asked in a friendly manner.

"Actually, it will be our honeymoon," Jesse informed her.

"Honeymoon?" Hi, I'm Carol gasped. "Well, that changes everything, we offer great discounts for honeymoon couples and newlyweds." I didn't see the difference between the two. "And there are hotels that offer honeymoon suites for the price of a normal room.There are even hotels specifically for adults, which allow nobody under the age of eighteen in. You know, a stress-free environment. Especially for those who have left the kids at home fora romantic getaway. I'm going on, aren't ?" She laughed at herself. "I'm sorry. I just married last month. The honeymoon was so romantic. The best part of the wedding, if you ask me."

"Oh, congratulations," I said. "Where did you go?"

"Santorini. It's where my husband and I first met," she replied with another one of her smiles. "So, how long are you planning on being away for?" I looked at Jesse, who was gazing into my eyes. I don't think he even heard Hi, I'm Carol's question.

"Um...a fortnight," I told her. I wanted to spend as much time alone with my new husband as I could. Then it hit me. The bride from the changing rooms. She never went on her honeymoon. She never even married her lover. This thought brought me down from my high. Damn that little pocket of guilt. Then I heard her voice behind me.

"St. Lucia? It looks beautiful." I smiled as the guilt shrivelled up. Hi, I'm Carol blinked at me. She had obviously asked me a question.

"Could you excuse me, please? My phone just started vibrating," I lied. "Um, Jesse, will you take it from here? Here's my stepfather's credit card. Oh, Carol, will you put it in the name de Silva, and not Ackerman? Thank you." I jumped up out of my seat and pulled my phone from my bag. After dialling the talking clock (so that my phone did not ring while I was pretending to be talking on it), I spoke an enthusiastic "hello" into the mouthpiece and darted outside, signalling to the Corpse Bride to follow me.

"Listen, I'm sorry about yesterday," I told her. To be honest, I wasn't sure if I had intentionally called her before. "I was frustrated. I don't mix too well with malls." She smiled at me, but I was not sure if this was because she forgave me or was simply impressed with my cell phone trick.

"No problem," she replied. "I could tell that you were stressed. And when I went to speak with your fiance...well, I didn't ask for his help. He told me how easily you get frustrated."

"Well, I'm here now." Corpse Bride smiled at me. "Why don't you start with how you died?" Her smile did not falter, but its meaning changed. It was now full of sorrow.

"I don't know." She admitted. "One minute I was looking out of my window and the next, someone had their arms around my shoulders. They reached one hand up to stroke my cheek, then grabbed the side of my face and jerked my head. I blacked out and when I woke up...my body was just lying there, my head twisted at this odd angle. My best friend found me and just screamed until someone came running upstairs. The coroner told them that my neck had been broken, and from the way the bone had broken, it looked as though someone had done it with their bare hands. He told them that I was murdered!" She paused as she let out a pitiful little sob. "But who would want to kill me? I am...was...twenty-one years old." I felt the guilt in my head slowly being replaced by a strong feeling of sympathy towards the girl.

"I just...I just want to know who did this to me...and why," she sobbed. I didn't know what to say. Honestly, who would?

"Alright, I'll help you," I settled for. A smile broke out on the girl's face.

"Oh, thank you!" She squealed. Seriously, she _squealed. _Infact, she was so excited she was all but jumping up and down.

"One one condition," I told her, causing her to shut up and remain still. "I'm rubbish at this whole wedding thing. Help me?" She smiled again and nodded furiously.

"Deal!" She exclaimed. "I'm Taylor, by the way. Taylor Ramone."

"Susannah Simon. But call me Suze." I smiled back at her. At that moment the door beside me opened and Jesse walked through, smiling at me. What is it with everyone smiling today? He handed me Andy's credit card and explained that we could pick the tickets up next week. I was so thrilled that I pulled my phone away from my ear, stood on my tip-toes and kissed him on the cheek. I heard a little giggle from behind him as Taylor disappeared. At least some ghostsknow when us humans need some privacy.

* * *

Andy wasn't even the slightest bit mad when I told him where we had booked. And I'm not being sarcastic. Brad, on the other hand, was furious. 

"First she gets a car...a freaking Chevy, no less! And now she gets to jet off to the Carribean?" He had yelled at lunch.

"Brad, you have the Rover," my mother explained. Which was true. David was only 15; too young to drive. "And when you get married, I'm sure that _you_ can go to the Carribean, too." Brad grumbled, but did not reply. Mom had made a pretty sound point. Besides, the only reason that I got the Chevy in the first place was because Brad was always taking the Rover out to the lake or one of Kelly's dumb parties or something. And when it was parked in the driveway, he always hid the keys from me. I pointed this out once, but all I got was a grunt. The kind of grunt that believed meant "I would thump you but I don't want to get grounded again".

At lunch, Andy told us all about this new project he was working on, somewhere in the town centre. I wasn't paying much attention; all my efforts were concentrated on inconspicuously flicking unwanted food onto my lap.

"Of course, it won't be open for at least another three months," he finished eventually. I nodded to make it seem like I had been listening and positioned my knife and fork at a twelve o'clock position on my plate. Fortunately, it was Brad's turn to clean the dishes this week. As he stumbled into the kitchen under the weight of all five plates and our cups, I pulled the newspaper I had been using as a napkin off my lap. Max had donehis dutyand hoovered it clean.I laughed silently to myself as I realised that I had pulled out the obituary page. Ironic, huh?

I don't know what made me do it, but my eyes travelled down the list of names.

Rabbiton, F.

Raleigh, R.

Ramone, T.

I froze. Didn't the dead bride say that her name was Taylor Ramone? _Ramone T_. But...Oh. I realised that I had failed to ask her when she had died. It had obviously been within the past couple of weeks, and I had assumed that her funeral had passed. But if a post-mortem was done and a murder investigation was being carried out, they would have kept her body for longer than usual. I read the rest of the small passage.

**_Ramone, T._**

_Taylor Ann Ramone. 1985 - 2006. Beloved daughter, sister, friend and fiancee. Taken from us too young. R.I.P._

_Funeral to be held at Junipero Serra Mission, June 30th, 11am._

June 30th. That was tomorrow. I blinked and re-read the small obituary. It only took me a matter of seconds to make the decision. I was going. If for no other reason, it would be a good way to see how her friends and family react around her. My initial suspicion was that she had known her murderer. All I had to do was see who didn't look upset, whos tears were fake. It wasn't a very reliable method, I know, but it was a start.

* * *

**AN - I can start getting in to the story now. I have already thought of a climax for the story...it came to me when I was trying to sleep, lol. But it might change...Only the Good went through at least _one_ change before I settled on the posession-thing. I'm going to work on making htis one not so obvious as Only the Good, though. I mean, you could probably see the Paul-being-posessed thing from a mile off :).**

**Anyway, thank you for the reviews! I can't believe I'm up to 15 already! I know it's probably the average amount for the Mediator section, but for a lot of the others you're lucky if you get 2 or 3 per chapter.**


	4. The Suspects

**Trials And Tribulations**

_**Chapter Three - **The Suspects_

It is late June, and that means sun. Lots of it. Especially in California. Yet the atmosphere at the graveyard put a chill in the air. This graveyard was not closed-in, like the Mission's graveyard. This one was open, seperated from the public by wrought-iron fences and trees.

The ceremony had taken place at the Mission, in the chapel. It was a sad ceremony, even though I did not know Taylor. I hardly knew her now. All I knew was her name and the circumstances surrounding her death. But I still felt tears come to my eyes as her family stood up to tell the sizeable crowd what a wonderful girl she had been. She was only twenty-one years old. Her life had taken away from her at a young age. Just like Layla, another ghost I had once mediated, had had her young life snatched away. But hers was taken by a homicidal spirit (who, incidentaly, tried to off me and Jesse, too), not a living person. Technically. And Layla had her lover, Stanley, by her side. Taylor had nothing.

After the ceremony, the congregation divided; close family members and friends and basically whoever wanted to say a last farewell followed the hearse to the graveyard. Jesse and I made our way to the graveyard, realising that no-one seemed to know that we never actually knew the girl.

We both stood now, a few feet away from the elevated coffin as the priest said his last few words and the coffin was slowly lowered into the ground.

"There I go," a soft voice joked from over by the hole. Taylor sighed as her coffin came to rest at the bottom of the hole. She shook her head and walked over to us. "I haven't seen half of these people in years." She raised her arm and began pointing to various members of the crowd.

"That's my Aunt Viv. Everyone has an aunt Viv, don't they? Uncle Joe, cousins Ruby, Connie and Jack." She swivelled slightly and began to point to the people who seemed most upset. "That's my best friend, Lisa. She's the one who found my body." The woman she pointed to had light blonde hair. Natural blonde, not bottle blonde. She sobbed silently into her hands, comforted by who I assumed was her boyfriend. Taylor then moved on to the next two people; a middle-aged man and woman. "That's my mom and dad. And the two brunettes are my sisters, Kaci and Eve. They share the same birthday. Eve was seventeen last month, Kaci was ten." She moved her pointing finger towards a devastated man. He was very handsome; light brown hair, strong jawbone, broad shoulders. He couldn't have been much older than Taylor. A man stood next to him with a comforting hand on his shoulder. This man looked about the same age as the other, but he was nowhere near as handsome. His dark hair fell to his ears, revealing a rather weak jawbone. He was good-looking, don't get me wrong, but nothing worth chasing down the street. "The one crying his eyes out is...that's...he _was_ my fiance, Kyle. The one trying to comfort him is his best friend, Ryan. They're like brothers." He slowly lowered her hand as she gazed at her ex-fiance. We could rule him out, he was visibly torn up. His friend seemed to be trying his best to comfort him, but the poor guy was long gone.

All of a sudden, I couldn't take it anymore. I begged Jesse to take me to the place where the wake was being held. I can't remember the name of the place, I was too distraught. It really hit me, seeing her family and friends like that. Especially knowing that one of them was most likely her killer. If someone took Jesse away from me the way that Taylor was taken from Kyle, I wouldn't know what to do.

It wasn't long before the immediate family arrived. It wasn't too difficult to get close to them. I decided to approach the parents first. If I got their approval, I could easily get anyone else's. Taylor remained with Jesse and I all the time, causing a few people to shiver when she walked through them.

"Mrs. Ramone?" I spoke when I reached the grieving mother's table. She looked up at me and smiled.

"I don't believe we've met," she said, holding out her hand for me to shake. I decided I had better explain who I was.

"I'm Susannah, and this is my fiancee Jesse. We are friends of Taylor," I told her. Well, I wasn't going to tell her _exactly_ who (or rather, _what_) I was. She shook Jesse's hand after mine and smiled another mournful smile.

"Well it's nice to meet you," she said with all sincerity. "It's always nice to meetTaylor's friends." On the word 'friends',Lisa turned to face me.

"Oh, you were friends with Taylor?" She asked suspiciously. "I don't recall her ever talking about you." I smiled a toothy smile at her to conceal my anxiousness.

"Tell her I met you last September at the hospital," Taylor said. I didn't really have any other choice, did I?

"Oh, we met last September. You know, at the hospital," I told Lisa. As soon as I spoke, her suspicion seemed to dissolve.

"Oh, the volunteer work!" She exclaimed, holding out her hand, which I shook. "I thought your voice sounded familiar." I didn't know what she was talking about. I had never spoken to her before. But whatever.

"She has told me a lot about you," I said. Which was a lie, but I had Taylor beside me, ready to spill any juicy information if I was put on the spot.

I did my best to inconspicuously ask about Taylor. I asked how the police were doing in regards to finding her killer. Not very well, it turned out. The only forensic evidence they could find in the room (hair, fingerprints, fibres) were from her friends and family members. Which, in their opinion, was worrying because it meant that the killer was most likely a friend or relative, validating my suspicion. I then acted all shocked and asked if she had fallen out of favour with anyone she knew. Other than the usual sibling-rivalry arguments with her sisters, her mother couldn't think of anything. There were no jealous ex-lovers or men who were obsessed with her, no family feuds or money issues. No-one could have murdered her for her will or life insurance because she had neither of them. When you're twenty-one, you don't expect to die. Eventually, I was out of questions and none the wiser when Lisa suggested that I talk to Kyle. I hadn't seen him since the family had arrived. With Lisa's help, I found him outside, leaning against a fence and staring off into the distance.

"Kyle?" I asked. He briefly turned to look at me and nodded in recognition. I had left Jesse inside; I figured it would be easier for him to open up to a girl. Besides, Jesse is way taller than him, and a lot of people find this intimidating.

"My name is Suze. I was Taylor's friend," I explained. "I wanted to say how sorry I am for your loss." He looked as though he wanted to say something to me - he had looked like this with everyone he had spoken to - but settled for thanking me. I don't know why I did what I did next. I guess I felt like I didn't have much of a choice; nobody knew of any possible motive for Taylor's murder. If I could get a few of them to help me start digging then maybe I could get all of this done within a week and go back to moaning about not being able to find a dress that didn't make me look like a ball of cotton candy. I guess the fact that Taylor whisperd in my ear that she wanted me to tell him something didn't do much to discourage me, either.

"Kyle, I-" I broke off. This was going to be hard. "You're probably not going to believe me, but...I...I have a...gift. I can communicate with the dead." I spoke the last sentence so fast I wasn't sure that he had heard me. I didn't look at him. I couldn't. But I _felt_ his head turn and his eyes bore into me.

"What?" He repeated, an unidentifiable emotion in his voice. I guess my timing could have been better. And I could have eased myself into it, rather than just blurting it out like that.

"I'm here because I have a message from Taylor." My voice faltered as I spoke. I was ready to run for my life if he started to get angry. Taylor told me her message and I relayed it to Kyle.

"She says that she loves you very much and...the photograph you were looking for...the one of you both in Paris. It's in the glove compartment of her car. She was going to buy a new frame for it after the wedding because of the crack in the old one." Taylor giggled and explained something else to me. "She said that she's sorry what her dog did to it, too."

Kyle observed me with an expression that was halfway between anger and disbelief. He suddenly pulled away from the fence he was leaning on and stormed past me, towards a white car that was parked on the sidewalk.

"That's my car," Taylor explained, and I hurried after her fiance. He pulled open the door and reached into the glove compartment. He gasped in disbelief as he pulled out a medium-size framed photograph. There were a couple of indentations in one side which I assumed were teeth marks.

"How did you-" Kyle started, cutting himself off as he stared in wonder at me.

"I told you," I repeated. "I can talk to the dead."

Kyle closed the car door and leaned with his back against it, gazing down at the photo. A tear slid down his cheek as he tried hard not to burst into tears.

"Is she...is she here?" He asked, not tearing his eyes away from the frame. I nodded, then said "yes" when I realised that he wouldn't be able to see my nod. His voice turned solemn as he asked the question I had been waiting for.

"Does she know who did it? Who killed her?" He asked, looking right at me this time. I shook my head.

"All she can remember is someone coming up behind her," I explained. "She was murdered, and I'm trying to find out who did it. He could obviously no longer keep control of his emotions, beause the tears began to flow more or less freely down his face. Taylor rushed over to him and wrapped her arms around him, although he would not be able to feel it. His fist tightened around the wooden frame, causing his knuckles to turn white.

"I'll kill them," he said, furious now. "Why would anyone want to murder her? Everyone loved her!" I swallowed before replying.

"It was obviously someone she knew," I told him. "Otherwise they wouldn't have been able to get into the house. And according to her mother, the only forensic evidence the police found points to her friends and family. They don't know which belonged to the killer because a lot of people showed up to congratulate her and wish her good luck." Kyle was about to reply when Lisa came running out of the building.

"Kyle, people are starting to wonder where you- What's going on?" Her expression grew dark as she took in Kyle's tears and my grave expression.

"It's alright, Lisa," Kyle said. He turned to look at me. "Suze here just wanted to tell me something."

"Oh, really? What?"

"God, Lis! Stop being so nosy!" Taylor yelled, storming over to her best friend. She was obviously shaken by her lover's tears.

"She...she actually came to give me a message from Taylor." Yeah, nice one, Kyle. I looked helplessly at Taylor for some information that could help convince Little Miss Nosy that I could indeed, communicate with the deceased. But Taylor was upset and not paying much attention to me at the moment. Lisa, however, was paying a lot of attention to me. And the look she threw me was nothing short of hostile. She glared at me, furiously and strode up to me, pointing a finger in my face.

"I knew you weren't her friend!" She yelled at me. "She tells me about everyone that she meets and she has never said anything about a Susannah..." She trailed off and shrugged when she realised that she didn't know my last name.

"Simon," I told her. "Susannah Simon. And may I suggest that you get that _thing_ out of my face before I snap it in half." I was surprised when Lisa backed off, her expression no longer hostile, but more...understanding. Hah! Sometimes my threats do work. But it appeared that this was not the reason she was backing off. She trembled slightly and I swear her eyes were filling up with tears again. Great, that's two people I've made cry today. And neither of them deserved it.

"Simon?" She repeated, her voice shaking. "I-I knew your voice was familiar! Joe Stevens. Have you...ever met a little boy called Joe Stevens? Blonde hair, green eyes..." I thought long and hard. That name rang a bell...yes! A little boy had approached me about a month ago, desperate to tell his big sister something. Apparantly he had died of an illness he was born with. His big sister had taken care of him when their mother became exhausted from looking after him 24/7. He wanted me to tell his big sister that he loved her and wanted to thank her for all she had done for him. He also wanted her to know that he had made her a card, and had hidden it in his toy box, which no-one would clean out. His big sister's name was Lisa. Lisa Stevens. She had wept for at least ten whole miutes when I had called herto deliver the message.

"He was your brother?" I asked, unable to believe this myself. Talk about a coincidence. Lisa nodded, wiping the tears from her eyes.

"I found the card, and..." She trailed off, but I got the message. "But, you've spoken to Taylor?"

I told her everything that I had told Kyle and she listened to every word without interrupting. She even laughed when I told her that Taylor had called her 'nosy'. She said it was "so Taylor". I was surprised when Lisa offered to help me find out who had murdered her friend. Kyle, on the other hand said that he needed some time alone, but would help us once he had rested. It was understandable.

On the drive back to Jesse's apartment, I told him everything that had happened. I don't think that he liked the idea of the fiance and the best friend helping me. After all, as he pointed out, everyone she knew is a suspect. Then I told him that Taylor _saw_ Lisa find her body and scream over it. And Lisa had an alibi. When Taylor said that she was going upstairs to finish getting ready, Lisa sat outside and talked with Taylor's mother for an hour until she went upstairs to see what was taking her so long. Kyle was in the church with half of their family for two hours prior to the time Lisa found Taylor's body. According to the coroner, Lisa had barely been dead for half an hour before she was found. Kyle couldn't possibly have done it unless he could be in two places at the same time. Besides, even the worlds greatest actor could not act so genuinely upset as Kyle obviously was.

There, that was three suspects crossed off the list already! Am I good, or am I good?

I have been to Jesse's apartment so many times now that I could find my way up to it blindfolded. But I wasn't going to try that. I had stayed over there so often, in fact, that my toothbrush sat next to his in the bathroom and I had a whole drawer full of spare clothes (mainly socks and underwear). Infact, I even had a bottle of shampoo and a pack of Veet wax strips somewhere in the bathroom. If that isn't merging, then I don't know what is.

His apartment was on the third floor of a four-floor building. It was a quiet building (at least it was until I got there) with onlytwelve apartments. We knew some of the residents, such as the grad student in the apartment opposite Jesse's who was always ordering pizza and the Jones; a middle-aged couple, Mrs. Jones bakes everyone in the building a chocolate cake for their birthday (according to Mr. Jones, it was the only thing she _could_ cook). Naturally, they all knew me as 'Jesse's fiancee' and let me into the building whenever they good. There was really no point in Jesse giving me a set of keys, really.

We made it up the stairs to his apartment in record time. He was hurrying for a reason I did not understand until I had closed his apartment door behind me, only to be pinned up against it, his tongue in my mouth, a second later. Wow. He's never like this. I quit fighting him (_you_ try getting suddenly pinned against the wall and not fighting off your attacker, even if he does happen to give Johnny Depp a run for his money in the looks department) and let myself melt into him. Seriously, that's what it felt like; like I was dissolving between him and the wooden door. He broke off a couple of seconds later and smiled at me.

"I'm sorry," he said, even though you could tell that he wasn't. I've created a monster, I tell you. "I just needed some cheering up after everything that just happened."

I let out a nervous laugh. Usually when Jesse pinned me to a wall, it was in the middle of a kiss that _I_ had initiated. But it didn't mean that he was changing his mind about the whole no-sex-before-marriage deal. His excuse was that he wantedour first timeto be 'perfect'. Thinking of this, I uttered a silent prayer of thanks that I had chosen St. Lucia over the Maldives for the honeymoon. If we had went to the Maldives, no doubt we would be in one of those hut things way out into the sea. I would be too scared to move, let alone get jiggy with it incase the whole thing collapsed into the water. Apparantly the hotel (four star, half-board) we would be staying in had an ocean view from most of the rooms. Perfect.

After my thoughts on collapsing cabins drifted away, Jesse and I settled down to watch a movie together. Thank God he let me choose, I'm trying to get him into my favourite films. After about ten minutes of staring at his DVD collection, I pulled out The Island. I had bought him it as one of his birthday presents, mainly because _I _wanted to see it. It turned out that it was actually quite good. Even Jesse liked it. I got confused at one point, wondering why a truck was carrying giant barbells around, until Jesse pointed out that they were, in fact, train wheels. Needless to say, I fet incredibly stupid. And then there was this really disturbing bit where Michael Clarke Duncan was dragged, screaming, down this hallway to be cut open, which caused me to bury my head in Jesse's neck. Bonus. The last film we watched together was The Green Mile (Jesse talked me into watching it because he had read, and enjoyed, the book) and I cried my damn eyes out! Seriously, I wouldn't stop sobbing into his damn shoulder. Afterwards, I accused him of making me watch a weepy film so that I would be all over him. He denied everything, of course. The ending to The Island was not as emotionally-charged as that of The Green Mile, but it still had me clinging on to him. At least I wasn't crying this time. Thank God for happy endings.

But the emotion we both felt from the ending had created a spark in the air. A spark we decided to turn into a flame, rather than ignore. His fingers snaked through my hair as he kissed me passionately, pouring all of the emotion that he felt towards me into said kiss. It was overwhelming, to tell you the truth. In a good way, of course. I have never felt more loved than I do when I am in his arms. That kiss with Paul, even Tad, had been empty, hollow, devoid of any emotion save lust. This one was...wow. Really, that's the only way to describe it. It blew my mind and made my own hands take on a mind of their own. They slid up his chest until they reached the second button of his shirt and my fingers began to fumble as I undid them. The first couple of times I had done this, he had pulled away. But he soon realised that I didn't want to undress him completely, and I guess that he was fine with this. As soon as the bottom button was undone, I ran my hands back up towards his neck, feeling his abdominal muscles tense beneath my touch. The hairs on his chest brushed lightly against my fingers as they moved further north. Jesse has just the right amount of chest hair; just enough to make you aware that there was some, yet not enough to hide his gorgeously defined chest muscles. He wasn't Robin Williams-hairy. I lowered my hand from his neck and slid it down to his waste, resting it just above his hip. His own hand began to do some exploring of its own, gliding along my leg, yet not going further up than mid-thigh (he may have his tongue in my mouth, but he is still a gentleman). But he didn't need to move any further north; I was feeling his touch through my entire body. It made my nerves tingle out of control. They sent messages that my brain could not understand. Part of me wanted to pull away, knowing how much this is torturing me, yet part of me didn't want him to ever stop. Thankfully I didn't have to make the decision of whether or not to pull away, because he made it for me.

"_Querida_, I have to stop," he panted, pulling my hand away from its resting place above one of his pectoral muscles. I giggled. I knew what happened when he got carried away.

"Sorry, I should have pulled away," I told him. He let out a little laugh and closed his eyes, planting a brief, gentle kiss on my lips. I shuffled closer to him and placed my head against his neck, enjoying the warmth from his arms as they slid around me, holding my body to his.

"You're too good to be true," he muttered.

"Let me stay tonight," I said. "It's been so long since I fell asleep in your arms."

"What about Gina? Isn't she staying at your parent's house?" Oh, yeah.

"She'll probably be shacked up with Jake or Brad. I doubt she'll realise I'm gone," I said. I hoped. Otherwise my mom will be on my back about leaving her. But, on the other hand, my mom will probably be so busy planning my wedding that she won't even realise I'm gone. Besides, she has nothing against me staying with Jesse. Not when we are trying to find our own place. But it's not easy when you're on a babysitter's wage and have a penchant for designer clothes. Jesse and I agreed that if we didn't find a place by the wedding (which was looking to be the case), then I would move into his apartment. I was surprised that we hadn't already moved in together; CeeCee and Adam had been going out for a few months less than us and they were already sharing an apartment. Although, they are also sleeping together, so that's probably why they moved into the same apartment.

"_Querida_," Jesse spoke, snapping me from my reverie. I made a soft 'mm' noise to show that I was listening. "You're falling asleeep. Maybe we should move to the bedroom." Any girl would be thrilled to hear her gorgeous boyfriend say that, but those were the girls who didn't know that it was a completely platonic suggestion. I nodded and followed him through to his bedroom, using one of his shirts as make-shift pyjamas. Thank God he's tall, that's all I can say.

It took me hours to fall asleep that night. I just lay awake, watching Jesse sleep until my eyelids began to droop. When that happened, I lay my head on his chest and closed my eyes. The last thing on my mind before I drifted off was the funeral. It was chilling to know that one of those people that had seemed so upset was, in fact, a murderer. Whoever it was, they were devious, and would probably go to any lengths to hide their secret. It was going to get dangerous, there was no doubt about that, and suddenly I was wondering if helping Taylor was such a good idea after all. Especially if I wanted to live to see the day I became Susannah de Silva. But it was too late to back off now. I was in too deep, so to speak.

* * *

**AN - They're getting longer! I'll try to keep them all at least 2,000 words. Which is what I aim for, but if I have found a nice place to round off, I'll settle for 1,900.**

**Thank you again to all my reviewers :). Reviews make me happy and itching to write more :).**

**SweetlySarcastic -:O you figured it out! Hah, nah...it was Professor Plum with the candlestick in the library. I can say that the murderer was mentioned in this chapter. Seeing as most of her family was mentioned in this chapter, it doesn't help, lol. You're right, the angry ex-lover thing _is_ cliche...I didit inOnly The Goodand to behonest, I've done it to death in my Resident Evil fics :). I was going to leave Kyle as a suspect, but I decided it would be better to get him to help Suze :).**

**Mediatorgrrl - Technically they don't have to wait until they get off the plane, hehe ; ). But then Suze would have to explain the Mile High Club to Jesse, and that would be awkward. They sure did pick the perfect place for a honeymoon, though.**

**I'm going to get back to work on Cursed now, if anyone is reading that. I've got these great ideas for it, but getting to them is proving difficult, lol.**

**Review and I shall be motivated to update soon:). Which I do anyway, having _way_ too much spare time on my hands, but still review :).**


	5. Visions

**Trials and Tribulations**

_**Chapter Four - **Visions_

_My face turned pale before the cold eyes of death  
My body was frozen by the stare from the dark  
I don't want to think of anything, but there's storm of thoughts in my head  
I wasn't prepared for this, 'cause I'm not ready to die_

_**Wintersun - Beautiful Death**_

My eyes skimmed along every surface of the immaculately-decorated room. The sheets on the bed were white, as were all four walls. The decor lingered on the border between bridal shop and mental asylum. Then again, over the past few weeks, both have had the same meaning to me.

A mahogany dresser stood a couple of feet from the foot of the bed and was strewn with open packets of make-up and perfume. A picture of alotus flower hungon the wall above the bed, injecting come colour into the otherwise plain room.

A window was built into the wall a foot or so the the right of the bed, and the view was incredible, to say the least. It was almost as good as the view from my bedroom. 'Almost' being the key word. It was this window that Taylor gazed mournfully out of, admiring the last view that her living eyes had seen.

"I found her lying right there," Lisa told me, pointing to the floor infront of the window.I bent down in the spot where she was pointing, pushing bottom of Taylor's dress aside. Then, I began to feel along the area where the carpet met the wall. Lisa observed me like I was mad, but I didn't care. The Scene of Crime Officers were usually so wrapped up in finding minute fibres that they missed the big things that were staring them in the face. Scene of Crime officers are grown men and women with an education and degree under their belt, yet an eighteen-year-old girl found something that they didn't.

It was wedged down between the skirting board and the wall. The only explanation of how it got down there was that it had fallen off the murderer and either Lisa or one of the cops had trampled it into the carpet. It was a small piece of gold metal (real gold, by the looks of it). It was no more than a centimetre long.

"What is it?" Lisa asked, crouching down beside me. As she lowered herself to the carpet, I felt a pressure build up between my eyes. Ignoring it, I held the palm of my hand towards her, the small object in the centre of it.

"It looks like the pin froma cufflink," I pointed out. I only knew this because I had once broken one of Andy's cufflinks. He laughed it off, of course, because he never wore them.

Lisa gasped at my comment.

"You were right then," she said. "They gave cufflinks to all the men at the wedding as a gift. The women were given earrings." I held the gold pin closer to my eye. Nope, it was definitely from a cufflink. I squinted as the pressure between my eyes became greater. I shook my head gently and handed the pin to Lisa.

"Do you think we should take it to the police?" She asked, pulling herself up. "I mean, it's evidence, isn't it?"

"No, don't," I told her. "The police may just shrug it off as an insignificant detail. Besides, it's a clue." I grinned at her. Lisa had invited me over to her house to see the spot where Taylor had been murdered. A strange invitation. But, I had accepted and here I was. I guess that Lisa thought I was psychic or something, because she kept looking at me expectantly, obviously expecting the name, adress and social security number of the murderer to just pop into my head. Although it would make my job a lot easier, this never happened. The only thing that had happened to my head since entering that room was this awful headache.

"It makes me sick, just knowing that the guy was a friend," Taylor said, shaking her head. She seemed to snap out of her daydream and turned around, offering me her hand. I took it and began to heave myself up when the pressure between my eyes suddenly turned into a searing ball of pain. I screamed in pain and fell back onto my knees, Taylors hand gripping fiercely on my own. I heard her and Lisa shout my name as the pain consumed me, distorting my vision. Then, I couldn't hear the grils' shouts. I couldn't even see anymore. Until...

_"Hurry up!" Someone screamed. The voice was female, and barely travelled through the thick wall that seperated Lisa's guest bedroom from the rest of the house. As if by an unseen force, the reply was torn from my lips._

_"Just five more minutes!" My eyes snapped back to the view I had been observing just seconds before. The view was incredible; I could see every single wave as it crashed into the beach. It was peaceful, yet it was not what filled me with an undeniably overwhelming sense of happiness. My left hand raised itself and my eyes involuntarily observed the beautiful ring on my finger. I had no control over my actions; I felt like an observer._

_My eyes shot back to the view and took in in for a few moments beforeI saw something in the reflection on the window. a footstep behind me, then...two hands roughly grabbed my head, one gripping my jaw, the other gripping my shoulder. The hand holding my jaw pulled itself sharply. I only felt the pain for a second before everything went dark._

"Susannah?"

"Suze?" My eyes opened. I was back in Lisa's spare bedroom. Not that I had actually left it, but...

"Taylor?"

"Yes?"

"She's here?"

"I think I just saw you die".

* * *

"Susannah, how is that possible?" I rolled my eyes. Men. 

"I don't know, Jesse," I told him. "I just...Taylor described her last moments, and it matched my vision _exactly_!"

We currently drove along Scenic Drive, towards a certain glass house. If anyone had the answers, it would be Paul Slater. And it wasn't like we would be disturbing anyone; he pretty much had the house to himself now that Dr. Slaski was dead. Paul's grandfather passed away just before Christmas. He had lived longer than the doctors had expected him to, but had eventually bowed to the inevitable.

"The night that hebecame posessed, Paul told me about 'unidentified powers' of shifters," I explained, though it was painful to recall that particular night. "Dr Slaski found some tomb writings pertaining to other abilities of shifters, which the Egyptians chose to ignore because they did not help the shifters guide spirits to the afterlife, and the egyptians liked to believe that this was the sole purpose of these shamen."

Jesse sighed. He didn't like me using any abilities that were connected to shifting. He knew how dangerous time-shifting and plane-shifting was, and seemed convinced that all of our abilities were harmful.

"Just...be careful," he told me, pulling the car into Paul's driveway. Paul was already st the front door.

"Hey there!" He yelled, although we were only a few feet away. "Long time, no see, eh?" I let him give me a brief hug, because we _hadn't_ seen each other in at least a month. He then turned to Jesse and shook his hand, theatmosphere between the two no where near as hostile as it had been a year ago.

"So, you said you needed my help?" He looked positively thrilled as he spoke those words.I nodded reluctantly and followed him into the large house, Jesse close by my side.

Paul led us to the living room, and the first thing that came to mind when I walked through the doorway was _'at least they got the bloodstains out'_. Because, of course, last time I had stood here, I had been pointing a knife in Paul's direction. Thank God he wasn't too sore about it. Then again, I had apologised for it when he was too doped up on meds to care. And there was the fact that his face had been practically caved in. Now_ that one_ wasn't my fault. Paul had recovered nicely from the events of that night, and the only evidence of his posession was his bruised pride and the unnoticable scar across his chest.

"So, what happened?" He asked, once Jesse and I had seated ourselves on his grandfather's sofa. I spilled it all. Everything from Taylor's appearance to the vision. He listened carefully through my entire speech, only reacting when I got to the part where I had witnessed Taylor's murder first-hand. Once I had finished, I waited silently for a reply. He did not disappoint.

"Ah," was all he said.

"Ah?" I repeated. "I tell you some of the weirdest shit ever to happen outside of Hollywood, and all you can say is 'ah'?" Paul flinched as though I had punched him. Unfortunately I have that sort of effect on some people.

"Suze, do you remember last January, the night when..." He trailed off, but I got the message. "Well, do you remember me telling you about those unidentified powers?" I nodded. Of course I knew. I had been thinking about it non-stop since Jesse picked me up from a frantic Lisa's house. "Well, I duga little deeper and one of those gifts was the ability to 'be' the dead person for the last few minutes of their life. In essence, you see their death through their eyes. Apparantly the shamen believed that in order to guide the deceased to the appropriate afterlife, they have to know the circumstances surrounding their death. I mean, they won't want to send a mass-murderer to heaven, now, would they?"

"Why didn't you tell us any of this before? This time it was Jesse that spoke. Paul sighed.

"Well, your girlfriend here hasn't been attending shifting lessons for about a year, so..." He ended with a cheeky grin in my direction. I grinned back at him sheepishly. Ever since he reformed, he made shifter lessons optional; if I wanted to go and learn, I could, but if I wanted to spendWednesday nights in a more 'productive' manner, then I was also free to do that. I had attended them for a month or so (bearing in mind that paul was in hospital for about three weeks after the start of term), but when you have a boyfriend like Jesse, you want to spend as much time as possible being 'productive' with him. Which usually meant making out on his couch or my bed, not as productive as I would like.

"Well, I know now," I told him, wanting to close that particular subject. "What about Taylor? I saw a reflection behind hers in my vision. I just..." I sighed in frustration. "I just couldn't make it out."

"You could always go back, you know," Paul said. "All you need to do is to stand in the place where she died, touch her and actually _want_ to know what happened."

"So, this wasn't just a one-off?" Jesse asked, intrigued. "She can do it again. And with any ghost?" Paul nodded.

"Sure. And so could you, probably. The only powers that shifters have that mediators don't is the ability to shift to places. Everything else is pretty much universal throughout the population 'blessed' with a sixth sense."

I shuddered. It was _way_ creepy, when I had seen her die. Because it felt like I was dying, too. Because for a moment, I _was_ her. I'm sure that the pain was just in my mind, but the atmosphere sure wasn't. I don't think I could handle going through it multiple times, studying the reflection in the glass.

"Do you...do you think you could help us?" Jesse asked, shocking both Paul and myself. Paul looked at him with an unidentifiable expression.

"What's the chances of me getting posessed?" He asked. I laughed. And not a girly, giggly kind of laugh, I'm talking about the wailing, slapping your thighs kind of laugh. Not that I was slapping my thighs, instead, I raised a hand to my mouth. It wasn't funny. He was being serious.

"About nil," Jesse told him. At least one of us could keep a level-head. "We know it was a live person who commited the crime."

"Well," Paul said, cheering up considerably. "Let's draw up a list.

* * *

**_MatthewRamone, 45(father)_**

**_Joe Ramone, 42(paternal uncle)_**

**_Jack Ramone, 16(paternal cousin)_**

**_Kirk Seagreen, 37(maternal uncle)_**

**_James Seagreen, 19 (maternal cousin)_**

"I've missed out the women and the men under the age of 14," I explained. Jesse, Paul and myself had left Paul's grandfather's house and made our way to a park a few miles away from the beach. The park was almost empty. On the way, we stopped at Kyle's house to collect a guest list for the wedding. Kyle was so helpful that he even wrote the relations and ages of all the guests next to their names.

**_Paul Seagreen, 69 (maternal grandfather)_**

**_Louis Ramone, 71 (paternal grandfather)_**

**_Jamie Freeman, 22 (Lisa's boyfriend)_**

**_Ryan Morton, 25 (Kyle's best friend/best man)_**

**_Harry Fisher, 51 (Kyle's father)_**

**_Greg Fisher, 27 (Kyle's brother)_**

I yawned and folded the list up. There was more, but my eyes were growing tired. I wanted to cross the grandfathers and the best man off, because the grandfather's were unlikely to have been able to sneak up behind a fit, healthy young girl and snap her neck. And one of them was in a wheelchair and the other had an arm in a cast. The killer had used both arms and was at least 5'7''.Neither of Kyle's grandfathers were there. The best man would have had a job killing Taylor, seeing as he would have been at the church with Kyle, awaiting Taylor's grand entrance. But, unfortunately, Jesse and Paul refused to allow me to crossoff _anyone_ until I had solid evidence to prove that they did not commit it. Not even the grandfather in the wheelchair, even though I had distinctly heard footsteps, not the buzz of an electric wheelchair.

I made a mental note of who I needed to talk to. I had already got as much information as possible out of the father and the teenage cousins, and I had talked to the best man both at the funeral and just before at Kyle's house. The best man had looked a bit skeptical when Kyle had handed me the guest list. He said that whoever killed Taylor was probably long gone. When I pointed out that all signs pointed to a family member or friend, he laughed and asked who would want to kill Taylor? That was the question that everyone was asking. Everytime someone dies or is killed, their family says "but s/he was such a lovely girl/boy. She had no enemies, how could anyone want him/her dead?" But that was the thing; someone obviously did want them dead. I didn't want to stay at Kyle's abode any longer than was necessary, having obviously interrupted a pretty ferocious game of SSX (I'm guessing that this was Kyle's latest dose of therapy...Ryan was practically the only thing that was holding him together), so I left without any further questions.

"Why don't we just finish this tomorrow?" Paul suggested, yawning. I had to agree; the sun was beginning to set and I wanted a good twenty-minutes make-out with Jesse before my mom dragged me off to my room. So, we made our way over to Paul's car (he had insisted on driving, and therefore taking his own car), the sun setting behind us.

I should have known that something was wrong. No birds were singing and there wasn't the faintest hint of a dog growl (the park seemed to be a favourite hangout of stray cats and dogs). I shrugged off the uneasy feeling and picked up the pace, eager to get inside the car and get home. That was when I knew that something was really wrong.

You know that feeling that you getright before you throw up (yeah, gross, I know)? You feel something coming, and you can't stop it, yet you try your damned hardest to. That was the ffeling that I got right before it happened. One moment I was debating whether or not to put my head between my knees, and the next my whole body was thrown back, colliding with Paul and Jesse.

The explosion ripped through the metal of Paul's car as if it were paper. As I lay on my back, dazed yet unharmed, I saw chunks of metal fly over my head. When the roar of the fire died down, alarms of the few remaining cars in the parking lot began to screech, causing their owners to sprint over to us. I slowly pushed myself up onto my elbows, feeling Paul and Jesse get up on either side of me. Jesse's hands were suddenly all over me, checking that I was unharmed. But all I could see was the mangled piece of metal that we, by right, should have been sitting in.

* * *

**AN - Hmm. So, was the explosion an accident or does someone have it in for Paul? Was Paul even the intended victim? Will I ever post a long chapter?Le sigh, we'll never know.**

**It'sa bit later than usual, but I was away this weekend and things have just went to hell. Writing fluff usually cheers me up, but I wanted to do a chapter like this, so... I do have an idea for a one-shot that I'm going to get to work on shortly.**

**Song credits go to Wintersun for Beautiful Death.**

**Disclaimer - Nobody reads these, anyway. See other chapters.**


	6. The Ghost Woman and The Hunter

**Trials and Tribulations**

_**Chapter Five -** The Ghost Woman and The Hunter_

_There's a sort  
of inner dance  
trying to seduce me,  
Feeling this anomaly  
which takes me_  
**_Lacuna Coil - Aeon_**

It's funny how many things are brought to light under dangerous circumstances. For example, how different Jesse and Paul really are. For instance, after narrowly escaping death by car bomb, Jesse chooses to grab me in a panic and check my entire body for injuries (well, the 'appropriate' areas, anyway) whilst incessantly enquiring about whether or not I was alright. Paul, on the other hand, scrambles halfway over to the wreckage of his BMW and screams in a very Jake-like manner "My car! My car!".

But I was in too much shock to be offended by his lack of concern for me. Even Jesse's arms, which were holding me close to his toned body, could do nothing to ease my current anxiety.

Who would want Paul dead? Or Jesse? Or...me. Nobody had it in for me at the moment. Not that I knew of, anyway.

Then it hit me.

Taylor. Her murderer must know that we suspect something, so he is trying to off us, too! I tolf the police that someone was obviously trying to kill us, but the officer in question simply laughed.

"If they _were_ trying to kill you, they did a cruddy job," he pointed out. "The bomb was homemade, which of course means that it will be untraceable, being made out of over-the-counter materials and all. The fuse was also homemade. Whoever lit the fuse didn't want it to blow up with you inside. Like it was a warning or something."

A warning? Then maybe it was true. Maybe the murderer knew that I was getting close, yet didn't want to kill me just yet. But who knew where we were? Who knew which car was ours? We had only just enlisted Paul's help an hour prior to the explosion.

After a long session of questioning and a quick once-over by paramedics, we were free to go. Which didn't exactly make me feel any better, seeing as our only means of transportation had been vaporised and we faced a four-mile (mostly uphill) walk backhome. Well I did, anyway.

"I knew that helping you would be a bad idea," Paul complained as we started the long trek back. "Why is it always_ me_ that suffers? I help you track down the ghost ofa lunatic, and I end up getting posessed and beaten half to death. I help you with some car crash victims and they hold me freaking hostage! Now,I help you find the murderer of some dead bride and my car gets blown up."

"Shut up, Paul," Jesse told him. I was currently incapable of speech. I was practically incapable of much movement other than shaking at the moment, too. And my sense of direction seemed to have vanished, which meant that Jesse had to place one of his arms around my shoulders and guide me as we walked.

"Why would anyone want to do that? I mean, it's not like we actually know who killed Taylor yet." Paul shook his head furiously. "Why would they want to make us even more suspicious by trying to kill us?"

"They didn't want to kill us," I muttered, speaking just loud enough for the two boys to hear. "The officer who interviewed me said that there was no way that we would have had enough timeto get into the car before the fuse burned down. He said that whoever planted it didn't want us to die in the explosion, they just wanted us to see it."

Neither Paul nor Jesse replied to that. We walked on in silence for a few minutes before one of them eventually decided to speak.

"Then...then they know that we suspect something," Paul said. "Who did you talk to, Suze?"

I thought about it for a few moments. I had talked to the father, the mother, the best friend, the fiancee, the best man and the two cousins. I had also talked briefly to Lisa's boyfriend, Jamie and had been introduced to Kyle's brother, Greg. But, we have established that it was unlikely to have been a woman, ruling out the mother and Lisa, and Kyle had countless alibi's.

"Um, well...out of the people we suspect: Jack and James, Taylor's cousins, Matthew, her father, Ryan, the best man, Jamie, Lisa's boyfriend and Greg, Kyle's brother. But they could have told the others." The unfortunate thing was that none of these seemed capable of murder. The cousins were aged 16 and 19 and unlikely to be able to put together an explosive, her father was torn apart by her death, Ryan was like a brother to Kyle and was the only thing that was keeping him sane, the same goes for Greg (although Greg actually _was_ his brother) and Jamie was the sweetest guy I have ever met, save for Jesse and Kyle.

"I have an idea." This time it was Jesse that spoke. "We could follow each one of them for a day or so and see what we find out. It would also be a good idea if we started digging to find a possible motive for the murder."

"Um..._follow_ them?" I repeated incredulously. "Jesse, all we did was _talk_ about it and they planted a car bomb. I don't know about you, but I actually want to survive long enough to get married."

Paul laughed at this, causing both Jesse and myself to glare at him.

"I know how you feel Suze, but that is actually a good idea," he told me once he had finished laughing. "How about you take the brother and best man and I take the cousins and the father and Jesse can take Jamie?" I raised an eyebrow at him before sighing as I gave in.

"Fine, but it would make more sense if Jesse took Greg and Jamie, seeing as they are best friends. Greg hates Ryan's guts." Paul grinned and then said "'tis done".

"What am I getting myself into?"

* * *

Sneaking around isn't exactly my thing. I get clumsy when I am nervous and would only risk drawing unwanted attention to myself. But now that I come to think about it, Ryan wold probably think that I was less of a freak if I had donned camos and binoculars and hid in the tree outside his bedroom window. At least, if the way he was currently looking at me was anything to go by. 

I shift around slightly on Kyle's sofa as his best friend observes me with something inbetween amusement and annoyance. Every now and then he will attempt to make conversation by asking questions about totally random things. Like how I could afford a car like a Chevrolet when I am a student. And when I am getting married. It wasn't like I didn't try to maintain the discussion, but I had nothing in common with the guy. The only common ground between us seemed to be our friendship with Kyle. Even though I was only currently friends with Kyle because I was trying to find his fiancee's killer.

Wait a minute. Now _that_ is one conversation I am perfectly capable of continuing.

"Hey, Ryan," I said, so casually I might have been asking him what his favourite colour was. "How well did you know Taylor?"

Ryan glared at me. For what reason, I don't know. I guess that he was sick of me interrupting his cheering up of Kyle. And I guess that bringing her up didn't exactly help the healing process. Not that Kyle was in the room; he had taken a phone call in the next room.

"Fairly well," he said, his gaze never becoming less hostile. "She _was_ my best friend's fiancee, after all." Really? I never-OK, I'll stop with the sarcasm.

"No, I mean...what was she like?" Ryan closed his eyes and sighed.

"She was a good girl," he told me, smiling slightly. "But she had a tendency to get on people's nerves. She was interfering. Once she suspected something, she would never let up until she discovered the truth. She caused a lot of trouble that way. I remember when she was fourteen and was convinced that her father was having an affiar. She went all PI on him and her parents found out. Pissed them off. Turned out that he wasn't having an affair after all. She was grounded for months." He smiled and laughed as he recalled that memory. She liked to interfere? That could be a clue.

"So...you think that maybe she pissed someone off enough for them to want to kill her?" I asked, Ryan eyeing me very carefully. "Like found out something and the murderer finished her off to keep her quiet?"

"Maybe," he said, leaning forward. "And do you know what? Your 'investigation' can be seen by some as interferance. You want to be careful. Especially if what Lisa told me about the bomb last night was true."

I laughed at him, despite how true his statement was.

"Look, a girl is dead here. It's going to take a lot more than a strategically-placed bomb to throw me off track. If anything, it has helped me. I've narrowed things down to a few people." I conveniently left out the part where he was one of those 'few people'. I swear he was about to say something when Kyle returned and apologised for the interruption.

"Sorry about that...that was Abi," he said. Then,noticing my confused expression, he added "my sister".

Ryan groaned and leaned his head back over the top of the armchair he occupied. Kyle laughed at this.

"Dude, she's over you now, met some barman called Paulo."

"You have a sister?" I enquired.

"Yeah, Abigail. Or Abi. She dated Ryan here for a year or so, but they broke up just before the wedding. She's been on vacation in Italy ever since." I turned to Ryan and saw that his head was still tilted back. Something clicked deep inside of me, but I could not place what it was. One thing I was sure about was that Taylor was not telling me everything.

* * *

"_Querida_?" 

"Mmm?"

"Are you alright? You haven't spoken for at least five minutes. That is not like you."

I punched him on the arm.

"I'm fine, I just..." I sighed. "I just can't help thinking that we have missed something. Something important." I felt Jesse's hand on my knee and my gaze dropped to it.

"_Querida_,stop worrying. You will only make yourself ill." He was right. But the thing was that I couldn't _help_ worrying. I lifted my right arm and placed it on the car door, resting my head against my hand. I really, really wish that I knew what it was.

Jesse turned left, towards the Carmel Hills. We drove through a stretch of road that was surrounded by trees, not houses. I could vaguely make out people standing on the edge of these trees, sometimes beside a car, sometimes just sitting on the grass. I strained my eyes so much to see them that my head began to spin. I moved my hand to my face and pinched the bridge of my nose. I could feel the pressure building up inside of my head. It felt like the moments leading up to the vision I had the previous day. It was impossible, though. I mean, I wasn't touching a ghost and nobody had died where I sat. Well, not to my knowledge, anyway. The headache began to die down until Jesse removed his hand from my leg. I screamed out in pain, my back arching as my head was sliced in half by a white-hot knife. At least, that's what it felt like. A moment later, I was no longer in the car.

_"You can't tell him any of this." I could not make out the person in front of me; it was too dark. And their voice was distorted and androgynous._

_"I think you'll find that I can," I replied, the words wrenched from my lips. "I can't lie to him."_

_"You don't have to lie to him, you just have to keep silent."_

_"That's just as bad!" I could feel anger and hatred building up inside of me. "And you would deserve it." I guess that I wasn't the only one who was angry, because the figure grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me._

_"If you know what's good for you, you will keep your fucking mouth shut!" I involuntarily flinched at his words. "Because if you blab, I WILL make you sorry."_

_I laughed at him. But I could feel that the laugh was simply disguising the fear that had gripped me._

_"I think you are the one who will be sorry," I jeered, pushing his hands away. "He's all you've got, isn't he? He is the only person to treat you like an equal. You've been a doormat all your life, and he is the one who keeps you sane. But do you really think that he will want anything to do with you when he finds out what you've done. When he finds out how you...how you betrayed-" I was cut off by a hand colliding with the side of my face._

_"If you ever speak to me like that again, I will make you pay," the person snarled. "NOBODY talks to me like that! Besides, if you told him, then yourwedding would be off. Do you really want that?" I smiled at him._

_"My wedding is in two days," I informed him. "I'm sure that I can wait three." And with tat, I turned around and walked away, rubbing my cheek as I went._

"_Querida_?"

I blinked.

"Are you alright? Please answer me!" I grunted in reply, my headache evaporating almost instanlty. I realised that the car was no longer moving. Jesse leaned over me, a look of deep concern on his beautiful face.

"I'm fine, really," I assured him. He suddenly gripped my shoulders and pulled me into a posessive embrace. I melted into him, my eyes closing invonuntarily as I breathed in his intoxicating scent. I buried my face in his neck and could feel every word that he spoke. Most of them I couldn't understand, because they were in Spanish. '_Querida_' and _'te amo'_ were all that I understood.

"It was another vision, wasn't it?" I muttered an 'uh-huh' into his neck. "I was so scared, I didn't know what was happening." He accompanied this last sentence with a relieved laugh. "What did you see?"

I thought for a few moments before speaking.

"I'm not sure," I replied. "But...I think I know what the motive was."

* * *

**AN - Yup, I'm not happy with this one, either :(. I know where I'm going, I'm just having problems getting there, lol. That alway's happens. I'm thinking about revealing the murderer (for those of you who haven't already guessed) in the next few chapters and havingthem chase Suze & co. for a while. I need to go think up some ideas now :).**

**Thank you to all my reviewers. And the song credits are, of course, Lacuna Coil. The title of the chapter is also a Lacuna Coil song whcih seemed kind of neat for this chapter.**

**Review please :).**

**Disclaimer - I don't own anything to do with The Mediator...just this story.**


	7. No More Warnings

**Trials and Tribulations**

_**Chapter Five - **No More Warnings_

_Short is the flight of this little starling  
Love sounds familiar, but the emotion escapes me  
I will carpe the diem while it's still here,  
And see how the fear of death becomes her_

_**Sonata Arctica - Don't Say A Word**_

"How are you feeling today?" I shrugged, forgetting that he couldn't see my actions.

"Um...OK, I guess," I spoke into the handset. "I just feel more freaked than usual. But then again, the second vision wasn't as bad as the first. You never told me that dying was so traumatic."

I heard him sigh down the phone. I could just imagine his expression at this precise moment. Duh, of course dying is traumatic. Except I hadn't actually died. Thankfully.

"I think...I think you should just be careful, _querida_," he said, his voice sounding strained. He knew how much I hated people telling me what to do. "It's getting dangerous."

"I know...which is why I'm going to talk to as many of the suspects as possible today. The quicker we get this done-"

"Nuh-uh," he said, in a perfect imitation of me. "You promised yourself to me every Saturday. It's a binding contract."

"Jesse." I sounded like an impatient child. He must have noticed this, as he laughed at me.

"No complaints," he said, his voice taking on that infamous no-nonsense tone. Seriously, it's like he's Sybil Fawlty and I'm Basil. Just without the moustache. "We haven't spent much time together lately."

"Well, I _do_ have a wedding to plan, a ghost to mediate, and, oh yes, there's the slight problem with someone wanting to kill me." I could picture his eyebrows raising at this announcement.

"_Querida_, please shut up," he begged.

"Sorry," I apoligised, grinning insanely, despite the fact that he couldn't see it."I'm officially all yours."

"Good." I could hear the smile in his voice. "I'll pick you up in ten minutes."

As soon as I dropped the phone back intoits cradle, I jogged downstairs to find David hogging the T.V. again, watching some program on Sci-Fi.

"Going out again?" He asked, not once taking his eyes off the screen. I glided over to the sofa and sat myself down beside him. David was now fourteen years old, and had started to develop the Ackerman good looks. He even went on his first date a week or so ago. Shannon, that's who he went with. It took her long enough to ask him out. It was kind of depressing to know that David, who was nice, but a total geek - something most girls find unnatractive, and even intimidating (if you broke up, he could post naked baby photos of you on the internet..._shudder)_ - , had secured his first date at an earlier age than me. And that he actually_ liked_ the person he went out with, as apposed to just thinking they were hot. There was no way I'd have been able to get over Tad's dimness and silk-shirt thing, even if he was worth millions.

"Yeah," I replied, unable to come up with something more interesting.

"You want to be careful," he told me, sounding just like Ryan, only less intimidating. "Especially after what happened the other day."

"What? How did you-" David sighed like it was obvious.

"Shannon's dad is a cop. He interviewed you and told Shannon to get me to make sure you were alright." I was shocked.

"And don't worry, I won't tell mom," he added. I grimaced. Then again, it could have been a whole lot worse. It could have been _Debbie's_ father who was the cop, and she could have told _Brad_.

I didn't want to worry my mom. Especially since she would try to find out who was responsible, dragging her into the firing line.

Before I could think of anything to say back to David, there was a knockat the door.

"Have fun," David told me, his eyes still glued to the T.V. screen.

But how could I? Knowing that someone wanted me and - more importantly - Jesse dead. Not to mention Paul. Gina had offered her services to us, but I had told her not to get involved. I didn't even want Jesse involved, but what could I do?

I practically fell into his arms when I opened the door. I had had a stressfull week. It is July second - only forty-six days until our wedding and in the past seven days, I have hardly even thought about it. Thank God that my mom and Gina were more productive than me...they had most of it covered.

"Hey," Jesse purred, wrapping his arms around me. "We've got all day, you know."

I muttered a barely audible 'mm-hmm' into his shirt. I could happily spend all day like this; he felt so good. He pulled away and placed his fingers under my chin, tilting my head up so that he could greet me properly. His lips felt so incredible on mine that I considered kicking him out the door just so he could greet me again. It wasn't until that kiss that I realised how much he had missed me lately. And how much I had missed him. I would have stood there, allowinghim to kiss me in this tenderly passionate way for hours if Dopey hadn't walked passed and said "eww, gross" very loudly. Unfortunately, this caused Jesse to pull away.

"Save some for later, _querida_," he whispered, jokingly. I bit my lip for a few seconds before leaning forward on my tip-toes to plant a kiss on the corner of his mouth. I knew that this drove him mad, but in my mind he deserved it. He shouldn't have pulled away like that.

"Let's go," I announced.

* * *

It was nice to spend quality time with Jesse. Due to our exams and the wedding planning, we had barely seen each other over the past month or so. It brought to light how different things were now. A couple of years ago, we could spend all of our time together. He was dead, so he didn't have much to do, and I had a barely-existant social life. Now that he was alive, he had college and work (he had quit working at the Historical Society when he started college. He now works for the Students' Union at the college during term time. In the holidays he works with me at Pebble Beach as a staff babysitter (he was originally a lifeguard but when Caitlin saw how good he was with the kids, she insisted that he work as a sitter)). But it didn't bug me that he was always busy. It made me happy, actually. Happy that he was getting a life after living without one for so long. He was living his dream; training to become a doctor. And there was no denying how happy he was. 

I commented on this, but all he said was, "_querida_, it is _you_ that makes me feel this way". Which was sweet, but untrue.Well, alright, maybe not _completely_ untrue. There is no denying that I make him happy, if the enthusiam with which he kisses me and the places his hand involuntarily wanders when we are kissing is anything to go by.

"Do you want to go for a walk?" He asked, his hand wandering down to my waist as we walked side-by-side. I could tell by the way that his thumb gently caressed my skin that walking was not all he wanted to do. If this is what he is like now, what the hell is he going to be like after the honeymoon?

I nodded in reply and wrapped my right arm around his waist, enabling me to get closer to him. I directed us both around the back of the cinema, towards a park (not the park we had almost been killed at). The park had been fairly empty lately, because they were turning an old warehouse opposite it into a visitor's centre. Tourists did not like to be disturbed by drilling and hammering, so the park was empty when the builders were in.

The building was about half-finished. As in the renovation was complete and they could get started on the converting. The warehouse was ancient and dilapadated, so renovation was essential to maintain the building's structure. Or so the pamphlet the building's owners were handing out a week ago said. There had been a lot of deaths in that warehouse, so I knew it fairly well. Or at least I knew it fairly before the builders erected a steel fence around the place. Even though the fence had came down at one point, there was always the random pedestrian shouting at you to 'respect local property' if you showed any sign of wanting to approach the fence.

I could feel eyes on me as we passed the construction site, which was not unusual. Builders were always staring (and occasionally wolf-whistling) at me. They did it to everyone. Except they didn't wolf whistle this time. Well, when a girl is walking past you with the arm of a six-foot-something, muscular man around her, your upstairs brain puts your downstairs one out of action. If you get my drift. Obviously I was worth whistling at, but not worth getting beaten-up over.

This time, however, I felt a chill slowly creep up my spine. This didn't feel like the other times I had been stared at. I whipped my head around and a couple of the builders gave me the thumbs up. I turned back around and shrugged off the feeling, instead trying to concentrate on the body that was so close to my own.

The owner of said body led me across the street towards the park. I attempted to glance back at the building site, but I couldn't do so without wrenching myself away from Jesse, and I didn't want to do that. Someone could stare daggers at me all they wanted, I was _not_ tearing myself away from the most goreous man to walk the planet.

"Are you alright, _querida_?" He asked me, pulling me over to a bench in the middle of a small garden-like place surrounded by a high hedge. A perfect make out spot.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I lied, lowering myself onto the bench. Jesse slowly took his hand away from my waist and sat down beside me, replacing his hand when we were both comfortable. He looked completely unconvinced by my half-ass reply, but I guess he attributed my nervousness to the visions.

"It's all going to be alright," he assured me, bringing his face agonisingly close to my own. He looked right into my eyes and I melted again. Did I mention that he has the most gorgeous eyes? They were dark, yet full of love and, at this moment, adoration. Love and adoration, I knew, that he felt for me. Still, even when his lips touched mine, I still found myself with my eyes open, looking over his shoulder. I reached up to run my hand through his hair, not to be affectionate, but to get a clearer view of what was behind him. This place is really starting to freak me out. For all I know, some pervert could be ogling us from the bushes.

Jesse must have realised this, because he pulled away and looked me in the eye again.

"Susannah, something is wrong, I know it," he said. "Tell me what is wrong."

I tore my eyes away from him and looked around. I swear that I saw the bushes about a hundred yards or so away rustle. Maybe some pervet _was_ spying on us.

I could feel the tension build up inside of me. You know, like when you are in a really dark, creepy place, and you are trying to keep your cool, but the terror sneaks up on you anyway? That's what it felt like. I glanced quickly in every direction before grabbing my bag and turning to Jesse.

"I gotta get out of here," I squeaked (yes, _that's_ how scared I was). "I'm sorry, something just isn't right."

"Susannah," Jesse said, but I stood up anyway. That was when my fears that all was not well were confirmed. Just as I stood up, I heard a noise. It sounded like a firecracker going off. At first, I thought that some kids were celebrating the Fourth of July early, but then my knees buckled as I felt a sharp pain in my side. I managed to grab onto the armrest of the bench for support and I felt something warm trickle from where the pain was coming from, spreading out when it reached the waistband of my jeans. Then, a split second later, there was another bang and something hit the bench. Jesse grabbed me, accidentally grabbing the place that hurt, and pulled me to the ground as we heard two more bangs.

After that there was silence. At least for a second of two before Jesse pulled himself to his knees and held onto me, pulling up the side of my shirt. I grimaced as his hand brushed the painful area.

"Oh, no," he said. It's funny, how two tiny words can inject so much fear into a person. "Susannah, just lie still."

"What...what is it?" For some strange reason, I felt dizzy. I had no idea what had just happened. And no idea why I was feeling so much pain.

"_Querida_, you've been shot." I froze. What? Despite his protests, I sat upright and managed to get a good look at whatever was causing the pain. Sure enough, there was a gash on my abdomen and a fair amount of blood was running from it. Not enough to make me pass out, but enough to make me throw up. Which I did. Thankfully not all over Jesse. But the two lucky cops and the two EMT's that came rushing into the clearing at that precise moment got a clear view of me yacking up my partially-digested lunch.

The first thing that the EMT asked was "what happened?". I was about to make some smart remark, but I was afraid of opening my mouth, incase my breakfast decided to follow my lunch.

"She was shot," Jesse explained in a disappointingly porfessional manner. But I still couldn't help but notice a hint of fear and panicin his voice. "I think it's just a graze."

Then the EMT began poking his gloved finger into my wound before deciding that it was, indeed, just a nick, but I would still need to be taken to the hospital because I needed a few stitiches. Oh yeah, and it looked like the bullet had ripped through some blood vessel so I needed to be checked outby a proper doctor.

All the time that the EMT was doing this, the cop began to ask me about what had happened. I mumbled all that I could. I was still in too much shock. I had seen the hole from the bullet that had sliced through me, and it was smack bang where I had been sitting. I would have suffered much more than a damaged blood vessel if it had hit me where theshooter had intended it to. I almost threw up again when I saw splashes of blood on the seat from when I had been hit.

"I saw someone in that bush," Jesse told the cop, pointing to the bush I had seen move before. "I coldn't make out that face, but I saw them raise the gun." I shuddered. If Jesse hadn't been here, then I would definitely be dead. If he hadn't seen the gunner and pushed me to the ground, there would probably be a Suze-shaped chalk outline on the ground right now.

As the EMT placed a make-shift bandage onto my wound, I gripped onto Jesse's shirtfront and refused to let go. I was in shock. I still couldn't remember what had happened. To me it was like "bye", bang, "ouch", bang,"hey", bang, bang, what-the-fuck-just-happened? Yeah, I know; it makes no sense. But one thing sure as hell made sense; this time it wasn't a warning. This time, someone actually _had_ tried to kill me.

The cop must have known about the explosion, because he suddenly became all worried and offered to send an officer to my house to look after my family. I told him "hell, no" because I didn't want to worry my mom, but the EMT said that my next of kin would have to be notified anyway, because of my injury.

As soon as Jesse and the EMT helped me up, the pain seemed to vanish. Maybe I had just gotten so used to it.

Just before I was bundled into the back of the ambulance with Jesse (because I refused to let go of him), the officer turned to me.

"The bullets are still in the bench," he said. "We should be able to trace them to a gun, and the gun to its owner. Don't worry, we will know whodid this by this time tomorrow."

* * *

**AN - Aah, I can't believe I've finally got it done! I started it, got 3/4 of the way through and then deleted it all and started again. This version is so much better. The other one involved the cousin and an open day at Suze's new college. But I'm thinking of evolving that into something else.**

**The good news is that I'm getting some good ideas for this, so it should be getting better from now on. Paul's coming back. The killer will be revealed next chapter (or the one after) for those who haven't already guessed. I'm thinking about introducing a new character. Or one that was mentioned briefly.**

**The next chapter might be a little bit late because I've been getting PMs about my Silent Hill fic so I'm going to get the next chapter of that done.Hopefully it will put me ina dark enough mood to do the next chapter of Cursed (which I wrote half of, then deleted, stupid me). But fear not, I am constantly writing for this, even if I am writing for other stories.**

**Once again, thank you for the reviews :). Now go post some more!**


	8. Game On

**Trials and Tribulations**

_**Chapter Six - **Game On_

_And I wanna believe you,  
When you tell me that it'll be ok,  
Yeah I try to believe you,  
But I don't_

_**Avril Lavigne - Tomorrow**_

I would like to take this opportunity to deliver a message to every doctor in the known world. When a patient arrives with a wound that involves torn skin and a fair amount of blood, do not pull the skin around said wound and then ask "does this hurt?" or the equally moronic "can you feel this?". The answer will most certainly be a torrent of abuse hurled at a hundred miles an hour in your direction.

Jesse found my outburst highly amusing, though I did not. And do you know how many stitches I needed? Two. After all of that pulling and pokingand the vile stuff that the doctor poured into my wound, I only needed _two_ stitches. And, no sooner than I was released and my mom was off my case, the police dragged me and Jesse in for questioning again.

Then it hit me.

I had been shot.

Well, in reality, it was only a deep graze from a badly-aimed bullet, but I had been shot at all the same.

I didn't sleep very well that night, despite the fact that my mother allowed Jesse to sleep with me (in the _sleeping_ sense), and hehad lovingly wrapped his strong arms around me. And I only have a single bed, so our bodies were pressed up against each other to prevent eitherof us from falling onto the floor. But I knew that the moment that I set foot outside this house, the game would be on again. The murderer would not stop looking for me until I was dead. Until Jesse and Paul were dead, too. I saw where the bullet holes were in that bench. When the shooter realised that he had missed me, he went for Jesse instead. Or he thought that he had shot me.

Whatever it was, he would be coming after us again

* * *

There was one thing that got me out of bed the next morning. And that was the knowledge that today was the day I found out whos gun had been used to shoot me. Oh yeah, there was also the fact that Jesse had to change my dressing. I was unable to do it, you see (or more like unwilling, wink wink). The doctor had assured me that it would be considerably better come August Seventeenth. Then again, it didn't really matter. I would probably be dead by then. Or without a wedding dress, which is almost as bad. 

"You're lucky, you know," Jesse purred, lightly kissing me on the neck before turning me around so that I faced him. "If you hadn't stood up, you would probably be dead."

"I know." I was unable to hide my smirk. "But thankfully my Spidey Sense was working." Jesse looked at me quizically, causing me to realise that outside of the Sam Raimi films, he has no knowledge of Spiderman. "And besides, I had my knight in shining armour with me."

Jesse gave me an uneasy smile as a reply. I could tell that he was still shaken from the shooting. I have never seen him as worried as he was then. Not once. Not even when we were both trapped in purgatory with seemingly no way out. He only relaxed when I was discharged, and even then, he held onto me so tight that I couldn't figure out where I ended and he started.

Breakfast at the Ackerman household was much more pleasant than usual. Jake was absent (and probably still in bed), since he had secured his own apartment a few months ago. David has entered the years where anything but sleep seems pointlesswhile Brad has yet to leave them, so they both sat in silence, shovelling spoonfuls of cereal into their mouths. My mom was her usual embarassing self (it's funny how she's only embarassing when Jesse is around) and acting like she was Jesse's mom as well as mine. But I couldn't blame her for being concerned. It's not every day your daughter and her fiancee are almost gunned down. Not in Carmel, anyway.

"Officer Johnson called this morning," she told me. I pretended not to look interested. But I guess she could tell by the way I was trying to scrape a hole in the middle of my toast that I was listening intently. "He said that the forensics department had ran all the tests they can on the bullets, and the cops are busy checking through their database and contacting local weapon shops." I grunted in reply.

To tell the truth, I wasn't expecting the police to be able to trace the bullet to the shooter. After all, the shooter could have stolen the gun. But if the gun was his own, then it must mean that he has no previous convictions, unless he bought it off the street. But if he did have no previous convictions, then it validates the motive I suspect. That Taylor had found out something about him (or her, why am I assuming it's a man? That's just being sexist) that he didn't want anyone else to know, so he silenced her. Hah, if only he'd known about us mediators. Or shifters.

I could feel adrenaline start to pump through my veins at the mere thought of the killer. I was ready for a fight right now. I even volunteered to take the dishes after breakfast and wash up myself. I didn't really need to hand clean the dishers as Andy had invested in a dishwasher, but I needed some way of releasing all my tension. Kissing Jesse was the best cure for frustration, but I wasn't exactly going to french him to death infront of my mom. It was embarassing enough when my dad materialised beside me during one particularly heated make-out session. I don't know who was more embarassed out of the three of us.

"_Querida_, is something wrong?" I didn't answer him. I simply continued to scrub invisible dirt from the blue dish I was holding.

A few seconds of silence passed before I heard his footsteps behind me, and felt his arms around me, his hands gripping the dish and pulling it gently from my grasp. He let the bowl slide back into the warm, frothy water and held my hands in his. I don't think he cared that my hands were soaking wet, and probably covered in half-eaten Cheerios.

"I know you are worried," he said, his voice so gentle that my frustration seemed to melt away. "But we will pull through this. We have overcome worse together." Together. I like that word. "And it will all be over soon. Officer Johnson could call any minute with news. This time tomorrow, it will all be over."

I wanted to believe him, I really did. I don't know why I am so scared this time. I mean, it's not like it's the first time that someone has tried to kill me. And, granted, sleeping with an arsenal of weapons under my blanket would be more than enough to fend off some homicidal maniac. But I guess that it was getting to me more because I was finally getting a life. Back in New York, I didn't have that much to look forward to. Even when Maria and Diego had tried to murder me, I had nothing to lose; I thought that I had lost Jesse and I was severely depressed. But now...things are different now. I can see my future, carefully planned out, ahead of me. I was with the man that I love and my friends and family can finally see him, I am marrying him next month, I have been accepted to my first-choice college to study for the degree that I want and my mom and I have never been closer. It seemed as if some higher force was conspiring against me.

These thoughts brought a few tears to my eyes, thankfully out of Jesse's view. I only ever like him to see me cry when I want something. I hate seeing the look in his eye when I am in tears. It kills me that little bit more.

"Nothing will happen to you while I am around," he whispered into my hair, obviously thinking that he had not said enough. "That much I promise you."

* * *

How did my mom ever graduate with handwriting _this_ bad? Seriously, there is more chance of me reading my _doctor's_ writing than hers. 

"Peams?" I read aloud. "What the hell are peams? Oh, _beans._" Gina laughed at me.

"What? I thought that said Nelms, not Heinz." Gina just continued to cackle. I really wish that I could be shopping for adress. That is much more important than ensuring that our fridge is fully stocked. In my opinion, ayway.

"They must be for brad, everyone else hates them," I muttered to nobody in particular.

"So..." Gina saya, oh-so-casually. She even began inspecting one of her fingernails. "You and Jesse were looking very...cosy...in the kitchen this morning."

I could feel the blood flowing to my cheeks.

"I was upset and he was comforting me," I told her. Because it was the truth. Gina just didn't need to know what I was upset about. Of course, she knew about the shooting, but she didn't need to know that I had _provoked_ the shooting. In a sense.

"I wish I had someone to comfort me," she groaned. "Jesse is so sweet. I can't believe that the first guy you go out with not only turns out to be the love of your life, but is also the sweetest guy on the face of the planet. How did you do it?" I laughed. It was true.

"I'm sure you will find someone eventually," I told her as I pulled a pack of frozen peas out of the freezer. Do any of us even eat peas? I dropped them into the trolley and scanned the list once more.

"Right, all we need now is cereal and the usual women's stuff," I told her. My mother had sent me shopping as a way to take my mind off things. But she insisted that Gina accompany me, lest someone try to take another pop at me. She also ordered Jesse to go home and get some sleep. He really did look like he needed it; he obviously hadn't slept a wink last night. I have made a mental note to actually find out whether or not this was my fault before feeling guilty.

"We really do need to get your dress sorted," Gina announced. I sighed as I pulled a box of Ricicles off the shelf and threw them into the trolley.

"Gina, my only concern at the moment is ensuring that I survive long enough to_ get_ married." But at the moment it looked as though even this was too much to ask.

We took a trip down the toiletries lane, picking up shampoo, deoderant and other stuff before heaving the now-full trolley to one of the checkouts.

"Please say they have home delivery," I groaned as Gina helped me to load the trolley's contents onto the conveyer belt. I had decided not to take my car after what happened to Paul's. I loved my car too much to see it blown into a million pieces. Which caused me to think again.

What about Paul? Had the murderer tried to kill him yet? Had they suceeded?

Suddenly I was gripped by that icy sensation that I had been feeling a lot lately. I hadn't spoken to Paul after the incident with his car. I was surprised when he didn't call me after my near-fatal shooting. What if he _couldn't _call me? What if the murderer had gotten to him already? What if-_Oh, God._

My hand dived into my bag of its own accord and snatched my cell phone from a pocket in the satin lining. I frantically punched out Paul's home number on the small keypad, despite having it saved to the phone's memory. The plastic casing slipped in my sweaty hands as I held the tiny thing against my ear. Two rings. Four rings. Eight. Twelve. I hung up and dialled his cell. He takes it everywhere with him; he knows how easily I get into trouble. But still, there was no answer. This wasn't like him at all.

"Suze, are you alright?" I looked up into the eyes of my best friend, looking down at me with an extremely worried expression on her face. I realised that she had single-handedly moved all of the food out of the trolley.

I shook my head in reply and thrust my phone back into my bag, pulling out my purse instead.

"Paul isn't answering his phone," I explained. "And the answer machine isn't even on at home, it just keeps ringing." I pulled my mom's credit card out of my purse and handed it to her. "Get home delivery. I'll call you when I find out what's going on." She looked completely astonished when I threw the piece of plastic at her, but didn't try to stop me. I was halfway out of the door when she finally realised what I was doing.

"Suze! Why don't you ask Jesse to check on him?" She yelled after me, but I ignored her. I didn, however, look back at her briefly and ended up walking into someone very tall.

"Hey, slow down there-Suze?" I paused to look up into the face of the stranger and saw that it was no stranger at all.

"What's the rush?" Ryan asked, grinning at me like I was some stupid kid who had ran away from her parents.

"I-I have to go see a friend," I told him, rushing every word. I tried to wrench myself free from his grip, but he wouldn't let me go. "He could be in danger, I have to-" Suddenly, Ryan let go of me.

"Are you sure you should be going out on your own?" He asked. "Especially after what happened yesterday." He nodded to my waist, where the dressing Jesse had applied showed through the thin material of my vest top.

"Ryan, you don't-" Ryan raised a hand to silence me.

"You're not going anywhere on your own," he explained. "My car is just outside, I can drive you wherever you want." Suddenly, my shoulders sagged as the tension within me seemed to drift away.

"Are you serious?" I asked, trying to sound as grateful as possible. "That would be great." Ryan smiled at me in a really pathetic way. Kind of like the way Neil Jankow smiled at me when I wandered into the restaurant where he worked, all bloody-footed and weary. It was a pity smile. It would have angered me, but at the moment, I was more afraid for Paul's safety than Ryan Morton's view of me.

Ryan gently took my hand and guided me towards asilver Honda Civic parked accross the street. Upon reaching it, he dug into his pockets for the keys to open the door. I slid into the passenger seat as he felt his pockets for something.

"Shit," he swore, looking frustrated. Then, he turned to me and smiled sheepishly. "I left my cell phone in the trunk." He explained. "I need to call Kyle and tell him to pick the shopping up himself today." I offered him mine, but he refused, insisting that he did not want to use up my credit.

So, he slammed the passenger door shut and went around to the back of the car. For a guy who was looking for his phone, he spent an awful long time back there. I thought that maybe he was waiting to make the call before closing the trunk, but moments later, he slammed it shut and began to walk back over to the supermarket, mouthing 'signal' at me before he crossed the road.

Just as he turned my back to me, my phone began to ring. I almost ripped my Fendi bag (75 off at an NY sample sale) trying to get my phone out. I honestly thought that it was Paul. Or at least Jesse, which would be better. But once I had managed to extract my phone once again, the caller ID flashed as 'unknown'. Curious, I pressed the 'accept' key and pressed the phone to my ear.

"Miss Simon?" The voice was old, masculine, and strangely familiar.

"Um...yes?"

"Hey there, It's Officer Johnson." I felt my fingers involuntarily grip the phone tighter and I even moved a few inches forward in my seat. "I thought you would like to know that we have matched the bullet to a gun. It wasn't as difficult as we anticipated. The only problem is that the gun was reported stolen this morning, so we are unable to take any action." That was alright, I could take the necessary action. I could already feel the adrenaline surging through my veins.

"Yes, officer?"

"The registered owner of the gun is..." Officer Johnson did not pause between words, but it seemed to take an eternity to hear the name. And when I did, my blood ran cold. The phone slipped from my clammy hands and I wrestled with the door handle, realising too late that the door was locked.

"Ryan Morton."

* * *

**AN- I swear, I am getting frustrated with this story. But EVENTUALLY, I am at the part I wan tot be at, the bit where I get to play around with the characters...and the readers, muahaha.**

**I will abstain from posing my own questions, because I know that some of you love asking them so much :), even though it is killing me to do so :S. So, instead, I'm going to reply to some reviews...**

**lil' angel girl - Jailed for shooting Suze? I'd think he would be jailed for killing Taylor, lol :). But I know what you mean.**

**Mediatorgrrl - What can I say? Just call me Miss Mean :).**

**Mighty Mitochondria - Wow, thanks :). I think the most of this story has been lacking Meg-ness. But I've just finished reading Size 12Is Not Fat (which is probably why I'm trying to kill the characters all of a sudden, lol)and Queen of Babble (great book!), so hopefully that will change!**

**marshmallowfluff25 - Ooh, I don't know. He tried to kill Paul, remember? In the books...by drowning him in the hot tub. Then again, he kissed Suze then bragged about...the builders were just ogling her :). Sigh, I need to find my own Jesse.**

**Sweetly Sarcastic - Thanks :). I'm usually alright at building stuff up, but then I screw up on the climax :S. And look, no rhetorical questions! You are free to post them...in exchange for reading a story that is nowhere near as good as Only The Good. IMO, anyway. But I SWEAR it's going to get better. And Jesse...:S...ah well, you will have to wait and see, heh.**

**One last thing. Of course, this story will end with the wedding (if they all survive, that is... ;)). BUT...I was wondering how many people would want me to end with the honeymoon? There's another excuse for you to review, lol :). So, go review! That button needs some love...just pretend it's Jesse ;).**


	9. The Truth About Taylor

**Trials and Tribulations**

_**Chapter Eight - **The Truth About Taylor_

_Bleeding under cold street lights  
People scream they're all afraid  
Blame myself is this my fault  
Agrowing seed of evil deeds  
Asickness thats has gone to far  
Closing in the chase is on  
Turning back is not my choice  
Lost my faith I'm on my way_

**_Beseech - Innerlane_**

Although my hands were slowly becoming moist with perspiration, I still managed to grip the door handle and tug on it several times before realising that Ryan had probably locked me in. Not wanting to hang around long enough to find out_ why_, I reached for my fallen phone only to discover that it had landed on the 'end call' button. I didn't know who to call. By the time I dialled the number, Ryan would be back. Unless, of course, he had planted another bomb, in which case I would be dead. Come to think of it, he did spend an awfully long time in the trunk. Then again, who is mad enough to destroy their own car?

I groaned in frustration and dived into the back seat, but those doors were locked, too. I even tried to pull up the bit that seperates the trunk from the car, but it wouldn't budge. I tried the sunroof, but it was electric. I tried the windows, but_ they_ were electric, too. Never before have I wished that I knew how to hotwire a car.

Then I realised...the windows. I didn't need to wind them down, I could smash them! I had just positioned myself to kick one of the back windows out when someone stood right infront of it._ Oh, no._

"In here!" I heard a familiar voice say. Only then did I realise that this person was not alone; I could see the silky middle of a wedding dress through the passenger-side window. I turned my attention back to whoever was blocking my exit and looked into a face that I never thought that I would be glad to see.

"I'm locked in!" I yelled to him. Paul swore and instructed me to stay back. Then, he lifted one of his muscular arms up and sent his elbow into the pane of glass. I closed my eyes and prepared to be showered with glass, but nothing happened. I heard a dull thud, then a lot of swearing.

I somehow managed to pry my eyes open, and saw that a cobweb of lines had spread out from where Paul's elbow had hit the window. It was obvious that Ryan has security glass. You know, the kind that doesn't break, however hard you hit it.

Then , I did something that will cause me to hang my head in shame for the rest of my life.

I screamed.

Then, I started to cry.

After all that I have been through, I am crying because some psycho has locked me in his car. I didn't cry when a mass-murderer held me in his brother's office at gunpoint. I didn't even cry when a known killer held a knife to my throat. But here I was, crying because I was trapped.

I didn't even realise the windows shatter into a thousand tiny pieces. Or the hands that gripped my shoulders and dragged me backwards out of the car. I couldn't feel the body that covered mine as an explosion ripped through the Honda Civic as passers by threw themselves to the ground.

When my body finally decided to register its surroundings, I was in a state of panic. Thousands of thought flew through my head, such as: Why am I not in the car? Where _is_ the car? What is that twisted pile of metal over there? Why is everyone screaming? Oh, my God! _Why _is Paul Slater's body on top of mine?

As if his body on top of mine was worse than the explosion, I shoved Paul away, whacking him pretty hard with my now-soiled Fendi bag. I then scurried out from underneath him, towards the remains of Ryan's car. Or at least I tried to. Taylor grabbed me and pulled me to the ground as Ryan walked out of the supermarket, a look of accomplishment plastered across his smug features. I wanted nothing better than to wipe that look off his murderous face, but Taylor whispered some words in my ear that caused me to lie low.

"He thinks that you were in the car."

* * *

"_Querida_," He whispered into my hair. You know, almost getting blown up _does_ have its benefits. 

Jesse's arms were wrapped tightly around me, holding me close to the body he had so obviously stolen from a Greek God. Never before had I appreciated how good he felt. Oh, I know that he _looks_ phenomenal, but that is nothing comapred to the way he feels. Or, should I say, the way _I_ feel when he is holding me, like he is now. The soothing Spanish words that he spoke into my hair caused me to forget about my most recent near-death experience.

Until he pulled away, that is.

He did not pull away fully, he merely loosened his embrace and pulled his head back to look down at me. His worried expression had the opposite effect of his soothing words. All I wanted to do was to bury my face in his neck again and for him to tell me...whatever it was he had been whispering.

"This is going too far, _querida_," he told me. "I think we have to let this one go." I looked up at him disbelievingly and shook my head.

"Jesse, even if we did back off, he would still be after us!" Well, after Jesse and Paul, if Ryan was as dumb as Taylor made him out to be.

I pushed myself back against him, resting my head against his hard chest. _What have I gotten myself into?_

"Watch your back," I asked Jesse, pulling back again. "Please. I don't care what happens to me, I just...I just don't want you to die again." Jesse chuckled at my remark,

"_Querida_, that is sweet, but I'm not going to die again," he assured me, pressing his soft lips against my dirty forehead. "I have too much to look forward to. So please stop worrying about me, and start worrying about yourself. Ryan will realise eventually that his assasination attempt did not suceed."

I sighed as I realised how true his words were. If I was going to do something about Taylor's murder, then I had better act fast.

Unfortunately, Officer Johnson said that they were unable to arrest Ryan due to unsufficient evidence. He told me that the gun had been reported stolen, and therefore there was no evidence to suggest that Ryan did try to kill me. Then he told me that Ryan had seemed visibly upset about the accident with the car. Officer Johnson also informed me that Ryan did, indeed, believe that I was dead, and he hadn't bothered to correct him. For now.

As for the bomb...apparantly the bomb was placed in the trunk of the car, as that was where the most damage was. I told the cops over and over again that Ryan had messed around in the trunk before running off to the supermarket. Unfortunately, they thought that it was just a coincidence.

So did Kyle. Infact, Kyle was now refusing to speak to me, on account of accusing his best friend of murder and three counts of attempted murder (me twice and Jesse once). He didn't even care that Ryan had no real alibi for the shooting and the first car bomb.

Oh well, who needs him anyway? At least Lisa was far more cooperative. She had never really like Ryan.

"Is there anything you need?" Jesse asked as he pulled further away and held me at arm's length.

"Um...some form of caffeine would be great," I suggested. "And aparacetemol if you've got any."

As Jesse entered the open kitchen to search through the cupboards, I made my way to his bedroom and flopped down on the bed. I had buried my head in the quilt so that breathing was nigh on impossible, so I rolled onto my side. That was when I realised that I was not alone.

"I am so, _so_ sorry, Suze," Taylor apologised. "I...I should have known that it was him. I was following Kyle when Ryan started to act all...weird. I had followed him to the police station when he reported his gun as missing, but when he returned back home to change for work, he pulled it out of his drawer and put it in his waistband. After the shooting, I knew it was him. But I couldn't think why. Then I remembered something that happened before the wedding. Something I...I found out."

Taylor sat down on Jesse's bed, pulling up the skirt of her dress slightlyas she did so. I pushed myself into an upright position, ready to soak in everything that she had to say.

"A few months ago, I discovered that he was cheating on his girlfriend;Kyle's sister," she explained. Now, Ryan was a bit of a loser when he was younger. He didn't have the best start in life and was really anti-social and spent all his spare time in a therapist's office. Everybody hated him, and he was really suicidal. Then he met Kyle, who treated him with respect and helped him to rebuild his life. Without Kyle, his life would fall apart. Anyway, I discovered that not only had he been messing around witha few girlsbehind Abi's back, but he'd also hit her a few times. She was too scared to tell Kyle, of course, so he never knew. Kyle loves Abi and if he ever found out about the way Ryan treated her, he would ditch Ryan quicker than you could say 'asshole'." Taylor paused to breathe deeply for a few seconds before continuing. "Ryan somehow knew that I had found out and he started to threaten me. I hated him and the way that he had treated Abi, so I threatened to tell Kyle. But I decided to wait until after the wedding. But I guess he must havegot to me first. Snapped my neck. Now there's nothing I can do about it. Abi won't tell Kyle. After that, I saw Ryan leave for the same supermarket you were at. I found that Paul guy you told me about and we raced over to the supermarket."

I shuddered slightly. So Ryan was an anti-social jerk and woman-beater as well as a grade A asshole and murderer.

"I would tell Kyle, you know," I told her. "But he's not speaking to me now. He thinks I'm making stuff up about Ryan. Is there any way that we could get Abi here?"

Taylor smiled at me.

"Actually, she's flying over here tonight, on account of her brother's fiance getting wiped out."

I heard Jesse's footsteps nearing his bedroom door and Taylor instantly disappeared.

I felt my whole body relax when Jesse walked through the door, a can of Diet Coke in one hand and a pack of paracetamol in the other. I reached greedily for them both and cracked open the can in split-seconds, washing two of the small tablets down my throat.

"Steady there," Jesse laughed, puling the can from my grasp and setting it down on the bedside table. "Was that Taylor?" I nodded, sliding the foil strip back into the packet.

"We have a motive," I told him, explaining exactly what Taylor had just revealed to me. "Which means that he now has two motives for killing us. We know about Taylor's murder and we know about his treatment of Kyle's sister." I sighed and flopped back down onto the bed. I couldn't help but feel a slight shiver of pleasure as Jesse's eyes - obviously involuntarily - wandered up and down my body, pausing for a few seconds when they landed on my bare legs. I giggled quietly to myself as he swallowed.

"Uh...I'm sure he doesn't know...that we know, I mean," he said, slurring his words. Then, he lay himself down next to me, having finally been able to tearhis eyesaway from my scratched legs.

"Anyway, you know that I would never let him hurt you."

I let out a soft 'mm' as I closed my eyes and pouted my lips slightly, inviting his to come and play. But, instead of landing on my own, his lips gently pressed against my neck, just below my jawline. My eyes opened themselves in shock as he moved closer to me. His lips were having a very curious, yet totally welcome, effect on me. Paul's lips...they had set my skin on fire, but Jesse's...wow. There were no words to describe it. He pulled back to gaze into my eyes, his own only half-lidded. I slowly closed my mouth which, I am sad to say, had fallen open the moment those soft, luxurious lips had touched a very sensitive part of my neck.

Obviously realising that I had enjoyed this, he kissed the same spot again, causing me to squirm beside him. His hand travelled down to my waist as his lips began to wander towards my collarbone.

I don't know what felt better; his lips, tenderly caressing my skin, or his hand, inching further north with every kiss. I was unable to return the favour, because he had moved so far down that the only part of him that was accesible to my own lips was the top of his head. Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on which way you look at it), he realised this and lifted his head up, his lips covering mine at last.

I could feel him smiling into the kiss as I wriggled again, trying to shake off this peculiar feeling that had seized me. Something _very_interesting was happening dowstairs, if you get my drift. I didn't know exactly what that feeling was, only that it intensified as his wandering hand reached it's destination. I didn't know how to make it go away. The feeling, I mean, not his hand - _that_ was _very_ welcome. Pressing myself closer to him didn't seem to have any effect, neither did running my hands through his hair.

I don't know if his experience was the same as mine, because he simply continued to kiss me passionately, his thumb gently caressing the skin beneath my nipple, his rough skin feeling pleasurable against my own. Then, he broke away.

"I think you need a shower," he said, smiling insanely and kissing me lightly on the forehead.

"What?" I practically yelled. He can't do that! But all he did was get up and chuckle. I shook my head as I myself began to laugh. I don't know why. But I do know that I picked up a pillow and playfully threw it at him as he left the room.

And I think he was right...I_ do_ need a shower.

A _cold_ one.

* * *

**AN - Heh...I wanted to add some fluff. Alright, I needed to :). It's probably the most graphic scene I've wrote, lol. But, If I'm going to do the honeymoon, I guess I'm going to need some practice :).**

**I'm thinking of having the next chapter or two Jesse/Suze, because I think I've put Suze through enough stress lately...for now.And, I've decided to spread the climax out over two or three chapters, so I can fit more cliffhangers in, haha. The one I've got planned is better than the Jesse-Out-The-Window one from Only the Good. IMO, anyway.And I still have the wedding to do.**

**I was honestly considering rewriting this chapter, in light of the time of year (7/7).I thought it might have seemed a little heartless. So, I dedicate this chapter to all who lost their lives or a loved one last year. **

**Thank you to all of my reviewers. And my Cursed reviewers (hah, talk about an ego boost!). You are the greatest!**

**Disclaimer - I own the story, nothing else.**


	10. What Lies Ahead

**Trials and Tribulations**

_Here we are, travelled on forever  
Thought we had it all, never got that far  
Carry on: tell us what we're fighting for  
Free us from what we are  
_  
**_Nocturnal Rites - Something Undefined_**

I have never used Jesse's shower before. Well, I had never had a reason to. And the reason for me to use his shower for the first time was my almost-murder at the hands of a known cold-blooded killer. However, as the millions of tiny droplets of cold water rained down on me, soothing my skin and washing away the dirt, Ryan was the only thing on my mind.

Even as I shampooed my hair, the thick liquid causing the many small cuts on my hands to burn, visions of that smug grin plagued my mind's eye.

It's strange how one moment your boyfriend could be causing you to feel...well, I still don't know what it was that I felt, but it was damn good...and the next, you are being hanted by visions of a creepy psychopathic killer. To tell you the truth, I would rather be thinking about Jesse and the strange sensations he caused me to experience.

At least he noticed that something was wrong.

"_Querida_?" I would never get sick of hearing that word. "Tell me what is bothering you."

We had gotten past the point where he used to ask me if I was alright. Because it always turned out that I wasn't.

"I...I don't know," I replied, tying the robe tightly around my body. "It's just Ryan. I can't help thinking about him...and the murder. He's going to come after me when he realises that I'm not dead."

Jesse's reply was to stand closely behind me and gently rub my shoulders. I felt his lips press against the back of my head.

"You know-" He began, but I already knew what he was going to say, so I interrupted him.

"That you will always protect me and that nothing bad will happen when you're around. I know that, Jesse, but it doesn't stop me being afraid." To my utter disbelief, I could feel that prickly sensation that signalled an impending flood of tears. I hid my quiet sniffles, though, so that Jesse couldn't hear them. I didn't want to upset him.

"_Te amo, querida_," he spoke. Then he said some more stuff in Spanish that I didn't understand. I really should take lessons.

This time, however, his voice didn't soothe me. It thrilled me, but it did not calm me. Something bad was going to happen and I knew that there wasn't a damn thing I could do to stop it.

* * *

I guess that it was foolish of me to leave the house. My mother had advised me against it, and Jake kept a vigilant eye on the landing, so I could not sneak past his room and down the stairs. So, I was forced to sneak out via my bedroom window and the porch roof. 

To find a certain Mr.de Silva waiting for me in front of the house.

"I knew you would disobey your mother,"he said as I crouched on the ground, having just that moment landed at his feet. I stoodand dusted myself off, acting like he hadn't frightened me at all.

"Then you know me too well." I patted him on the shoulder and walked right past him, as if he wasn't even there.

"Susannah."

I paused for a moment before continuing to walk. Even if I had ran, he still would have caught me.

"Jesse, please don't try to stop me," I told him. I felt his grip on my shoulders loosen and he came around to face me.

"_Querida_, as much as I would like to stop you, I know that it is impossible. I intend only to ensure your safety." I rolled my eyes. Sure. "Because you can be reckless For lack of a beter word." He muttered this last sentence, but I heard it all the same.

"Jesse, if-" I started, but he held up a hand to silence me.

"Maybe a walk would do you good."

Yeah. A walk at half past ten in the evening. He had obviously been waiting for me to sneak out. He figured that I would go after Ryan the first chance I got. What bothered me the most was that he was one hundred percent correct. Why else would I be wearing those trusty old ripped jeans coupled with a black tank top (even at night, it was way too warm to wear my leather jacket. Plus, I hadn't been able to get that fishy smell out. Even after two years)?

Jesse did not complain once about the walk to the park that I made him endure, though I could tell that he wanted to. But, like he said, it was very difficult to make me change my mind. I can be as stubborn as Jesse when the occasion calls for it. And believe me, it called for it. I could tell that he was worried about it, though. The way his arm went around my shoudlers was tight enough to ensure that he could pull me to the ground if danger came our way. It was endearing.

The park is eerie at night. I had never seen it veiled in darkness before, and it really creeped me out. The way the trees cast shadows on the freshly-cut grass sent shivers through my body. The shadows concealed many areas and I was unable to tell if anyone was lurking in them. I guess that is why so many people are afraid of the dark: it is the fear of the unknown, of what you can't see. I prefer being faced with a visible foe than to be fighting a shadow. So to speak.

I dropped down onto the same bench I had sat on when Ryan had attempted to shoot me. Ironic, huh? The bullet holes remained in the wood, but at least they had got rid of the blood stains.

"_Querida_?" Jesse did not sit beside me; he kneeled infront of me instead. I pulled my feet up onto the bech and hugged my knees to my chest.

"I don't...I don't actually know what I'm going to do," I admitted, letting out a little chuckle. It was true. I knew what I wanted - what I needed - to do, just not how I intended to do it. Jesse smiled and pulled my legs down so that they were either side of him and moved closer, brushing a few stray strands of hair out of my eyes.

"_Querida,_ you don't _have_ to do anything," he said calmly. _Too_ calmly. Usually he is all over me to let it go, etc. etc. "You know that."

I looked down at him, gazing longingly into his dark brown eyes. He has never looked so handsome as he looked right then, the moonlight illuminating the perfectly-sculpted planes of his face. I felt the sudden, overwhelming urge to press my lips against his and have my wicked way with him here and now. But, despite the fact that he wouldn't go along with it, I knew that couldn't do it on account of the whole Ryan thing. And the fact that it would be indecent exposure.

"Jesse," I said softly, pushing all thoughts of him ripping off my clothes out of my mind. "Whay aren't you trying to stop me?" Jesse tried to turn his head, but I gently placed a hand on either side of his cheeks. Instead, he settled for looking down at the ground.

"I-" He paused and shook his head slightly. "I guess that I want you to. I-He hurt you, he tried to kill you. You have no idea how angry that makes me. I know I should not be thinking this way, but I love you and...if this is the only way to ensure your safety, then it must be done."

I stared down at him in silence for a few moments before lightly kissing the top of his head. I knew how he felt. Back when Paul was psychotic and I thought he was going to 'save' Jesse, the pain I had felt was nigh on unbearable. I have never loved someone as much as I love Jesse, and the thought of losing him...it killed me.

"I know the feeling," I told him.

I relcutantly pulled myself to my feet before helping Jesse up.

"You will distract Kyle while I get to Ryan?" I asked. Jesse nodded. "I don't want you to scare him away; I want him to know what his so-called best friend is_ really_ like."

Jesse smiled again and placed a hand on my cheek, his way of telling me that everything would be alright. Even though it was obviously that it wouldn't be. Alright, I mean.

It's funny how at that precise moment, an ear-splitting shriek tore through the night air. It came from the direction of the building site. Jesse and I didn't even think before sprinting over to the source of the noise. It appeared at be a girl of about twenty, laying sprawled on the sidewalk justoutside the building site.

"Hey!" I yelled, turning her onto her back. There was a gash on the side of her head, from which a tiny amount of blood was trickling. She blinked as I said "hey" again, only to jerk violently to break free of my old on her.

"Hey, it's alright," I assured her. She looked strangely familiar. "We're not going to hurt you. What happened?"

She blinked up at me again, then turned to Jesse who was crouched beside me.

"Where's Lisa?" She asked. Jesse and I exchanged nervous glances. "Where is she?" She repeated, her voice becoming louder.

"Ssh," I said. "I don't know, we just foufn you lying here."

"Oh, no," she said, pushing me away. She attempted to stand up and placed a hand against the wound in her head. Eventually she found her feet, but Jesse had to grab her arms to keep her steady.

"I have to find her!" She exclaimed. "He is going to kill her! He told us to meet him and he took us here, then hit me with something."

"Whoa, slow down," I told her. "Let's start with your name."

She looked at me like I was stupid. Which I probably was, but never mind.

"My name is Abi. Abi Fisher," she explained, wincing slightly. Fisher? Oh, my God! This is Kyle's sister! Then, that means that Lisa has been...oh, no. Ryan.

"Abi, I'm suze, I'm a friend of Lisa's," I explained. "Look, go to the police department and ask for an Officer Jackson. Tell him where we are and hurry!" I turned to speak to Jesse, only to discover that he was gone. I spun around and caught a glimpse of his tall, athletic form entering the old warehouse.

Shit.

"Go!" I screamed at Abi and then took off towards the warehouse.

Game on, I guess.

* * *

**AN - Short, crap chapter, I know, but it's just setting things up for the next few chapters...I could have wrote more, but it would have meant that the next chapter is dragged out a bit. Because I love the cliffhanger I've got planned for next chapter. You are all going to hate me if I go ahead with it :). But at least the next chapter will be long. Hopefully. I have a lot to catxh up film-wise. I only just saw Dead Man's Chest today! Which is the most hilarious film I've seen since Porky's. Some awesome one-liner's :).Plus, I really should be catching up on Lost instead of typing this, but whatever.**

**I apologise in advance for any mistakes in this chapter, because I'm typing it up on my laptop and it's really hard to type on this infernal thing.**

**Thank you all once again for the lovely reviews! They are my writing fuel! So keep posting them!**


	11. Showdown

**Trials and Tribulations**

_Full moon staring at me tonight  
Time to feed my evil appetite  
Live or die at the strike of midnight  
The choice is yours,  
But you're running out of time_

_**Sinergy - Midnight** **Madness**_

**AN - There be some harsh language in this chapter.**

The sheet of plastic covering the entrance fluttered shut behind me. They may have renovated the building, but they had yet to replace the doors.

The warehouse was on three floors and each floor was divided up into four or five rooms with the exception of the first floor, which was pretty much open. I could tell by looking up that they had done a crap job of repairing the ceiling that connected the ground floor and first floor. From where I stood, I could see several small holes.

The wind howled ominously through the empty warehouse and I shivered as it brushed past me. Maybe I should have worn a jacket after all. Shaking off the feeling of unease that had overcome me, I took a step forward only to feel a cold hand on my shoulder.

I screamed.

The hand left my shoulder and pressed itself over my mouth, but I was having none of this. I thrust my elbow back and heard a sharp intake of breath as it slammed into myattacker. Then, I spun around, ready to kick the shit out of whoever it was. But...

"Taylor?" I felt my cheeks flush red with embarassment. "I am so sorry, I thought you were..."

Taylor laughed as she straightened herself up.

"It's alright, I shouldn't have snuck up behind you," she apologised. To give her credit, she did look genuinely sorry. "You have to hurry, Ryan has Lisa. When she told Abi about how I died, Abi knew that Ryan had killed me. So she went insane and arranged to meet Ryan at the warehouse. But Lisa went with her and Ryan grabbed her as soon as he got close. Abi is just a kid, she's too frightened to tell anyone about what he did. But Lisa...she's different. She would go straight to the police if he gave her a chance."

I blinked at her. Abi may have been scared, but to let a guy get away with murder?

"Taylor," I said, looking around the warehouse for the stairs to the first floor. "Go to Paul and tell him to come here as soon as he can. Then come back here and help Jesse. He ran ahead and I have no idea where he went."

Taylor nodded obedienly and began to shimmer.

"Oh, Suze?" I turned to look at her. "Be careful. He's got a gun." Then she vanished.

I smiled wearily in her general directon then turned and ran towards on of the warehouse's many rooms. The first one had obviously been an office, because the desk and computer were still connected. The builders must have left it there for entertainment. I kicked the fallen keyboard out of the way and slid through into the next room. The floorboards creaked ominously above me and I involuntarily crouched. I could hear muffled voices and someone...a woman...sobbing. First floor.

Without further hesitation, I crept through the next few rooms and silently padded towards the stairs. Each step creaked under my weight and I head footsteps moving further away from me, then more creaking. Shit, he took her up to the second. Where the hell was Jesse?

Just as I was thinking this, I heard footsteps behind me. I scrambled to my feet and pushed myself into the wall, hiding behind the shet of plastic that covered it. I could hear the creaking of the steps and vaguely saw someone step out onto the first floor, looking around catiously. I pulled back the sheet of plastic to get a better view. Black hair, dark skin, tight- Jesse!

He spun around, startled as I whispered his name.

"Susannah?" I raised a finger to my lips as I crawed out from beneath the plastic. If he didn't keep quiet...well, I couldn't bearto thinkabout it.

Now free of the plastic, I strode over to him and grabbed him by the shoulders, shaking him as violently as I could.

"What the hell were you thinking?" I whispered frantically. "He has a freaking gun! You shouldn't have ran off!" Jesse grabbed my hands and removed them from his shoulders.

"I'm sorry, _querida_, but Lisa is in danger!" He told me, keeping his voice as low as he could. I shook my head gently.

"Yeah, and if we seperate, then _we_ will be in danger too! This guy is a psychopath!"

I turned from my fiance to observe our surroundings. The first floor was completely open; the only furnishings were a pile of boxes in one corner and a service lift next to the far wall. I looked from the boxes to the lift then back to the boxes again. I had an idea.

"Jesse, will you go out onto the scaffolding and see if you can find a marker or a pen knife?" I asked, pointing to one of the windows. I know builders; they usually leave all of their equipment out. Jesse looked confused, but nodded and clambered out through the window.

I turned towards one of the many plastic sheets and ripped it from the wall. This was no mean feat; I had to hang on it and jump up and down in mid-air to get it to fall. When it did fall, I was about two feet off the ground and landed heavily on my side. I had to ignore the pain that shot through my hip and grab the plastic. Then, I ran over to one of the boxes and pulled it towards the lift. I then grabbed the nail gun that lay on top of the box and nailed the plastic to the box.

Just as I had accomplished this, Jesse ran over to me, a red marker in his hand.

"Will this do?" He enquired. I grinned. Red. Perfect!

Jesse looked down at me in curiosity as I wrote the word 'GOTCHA!' onto the plastic. Then, I stood back, nail gun still in hand, and admired my work. I laughed at how ridiculous it looked.

"Susannah?"

I turned to Jesse and said "oh" once I noticed the completely comfused expression on his face.

"I...um...ind of have a plan," I explained. "I heard him drag Lisa up to the second floor, so I figured I would send this lift up as a distraction and then sneak up the stairs and jump him from behind."

Jess looked at me like I was insane, and then ducked as I shrugged, pointing the nail gun in his direction.

"Oh, sorry," I apologised, placing the leathal weapon (which it was in my hands) back on the top of the box.

"_Querida_," he said, placing his hands on my shoulders. "You are not going up there. Ah-don't." I snapped my jaw shut. "I will go. You will start the lift and I will go upstair, the sound of the lift will disguise the creaking of the steps. I will send Lisa down to you and you will both leave the building and wait for the police. Ah-no buts!" I frowned at him. No way, it was too dangerous. But it didn't seem that there was anything I could do to stop him. He pickd up the nail gun from the top of the box and grabbed the controls for the service lift.

"Press the up button when I get to the bottom of the stairs," he told me. I attempted to use my eyes to plead with him, buthe was having none of it. All I could do was whisper 'good luck' as he kissed me on the forehead and ranoff towards the stairs, nail gun in hand. He turned to face me then nodded.

I looked down at the controls and slid my finger over the '' button. I looked at Jesse one last time before pressing it. The lift noisily sprung to life behind me and the floor began to shudder violently beneath my feet. My eyes followed it as it rose up, maing a loud thudding noise as it slid into place in the second floor.

I listened intently for any sounds of a strugle, but there were none. The lift had rattled and clanked for about five minutes, but surely it would have taken longer than that. Or maybe Ryan was hiding.

A few more minutes passed, and still nothing. No Jesse, no Ryan, no sobs from Lisa. After five minutes in total, I began to worry. I ran up to the window and somehow managed to find a crowbar lying on the scaffolding. It probably wouldn't do much against a man with a gun, but it as better than nothing.

With only one purpose in mind, I sprinted towards the stairs, the crowbar swinging at my side.

I was so focused on the stairs that I forgot all about the holes in the floor. Until my foot fell through one of them, that is. I screamed in agony as my foot twisted violently and the crowbar flew from my hand, landing about three foot out of my reach.

Then I heard a horrifying sound. Footsteps. They were getting louder and louder until I heard that al-too familiar groan of teh warehouse's ancient steps. Terrified, I attempted to stand up, but I couldn't get my foot out of the hole. Everytime I moved it, pain shot up and down my leg. I had probably broken my ankle. The hole was big enough for my other foot to fit down there, too, but I could not twist my foot into a positoin that would allow it to be removed.

All I could do was lie there, franctically scrabbling at the floor, attempting to reach the crowbar. But it was too far away. Eventually the creaking stopped, and I heard footseteps on this floor. No '_querida_', no 'Susannah'. This wasn't Jesse.

I looked up and foudn that I was only half right. It _was_ Jesse. But he was not here voluntarily. Ryan had one arm around him, a gun pressing against Jesse's temple in his free hand. I would have screamed, but the fall had knocked all of the air out of me.

It looked as if there had been a struggle; Ryan had several nails embedded into his left shoulder and Jesse had a wound on the side of his head, from where Ryan had obviously hit him. Jesse seemed to be struggling, but it looked as though he was using all of his available strength to remain concious. Ryan must have hit him pretty hard.

A strangled sob escaped my lips as Ryan dragged Jesse towards me.

"You really are stupid," Ryan laughed. "I can't believe you would actually risk your own life...and your fiance's...for some girl you never even knew!"

"Ryan, let him go!" I yelled. I was trying my best to sound threatening, but there's only so much you can do when you are sprawled on the ground, your foot hovering somewhere between ground floor and first floor.

"Let him go?" Ryan asked, obviously amused. I don't know why. Then he laughed a maniacal laugh. "Isn't that sweet? You know, if you hadn't moved the other day, you would be lying in a morgue right now. The same goes for this morning. You know that until now, I assumed that you were dead!" He shifted his grip as Jesse weakly tried to pry his arm from around his neck. I could feel the anger welling up inside me. I searched the deepest, darkest corners of my mind for something that I could use against him. Then it hit me. The flashback I saw of him and Taylor.

So, I laughed at him.

"You really are crazy, aren't you?" I asked, laughing hysterically. I smiled with satsifaction as a look of pure anger and hatred crossed his face. Jesse winced as Ryan pressed the gun into his head. I guess that pissing him off was a bad idea right now. But all I had to do was buy us some time. Abi would be here with the cops any moment. Or Taylor with Paul. I couldn't risk caling Taylor now; if she attacked Ryan, he might pull the trigger and blow away everything that I hold dear.

"Don't," Ryan spat, "call me crazy!" But I coudl tell by the look in his eyes that that was what he was. Crazy.

"Why?" I sneered. "Because you're afraid that Kyle will find out that you are?" I coudl tell that I had hit the spot when he grimaced. "He's all you have, isn't he? Whoo...when he finds out what you did to his fiancee, he's going to completely disown you, isn't he?"

"Shut the fuck up!" He screamed.

"Suze," Jesse pleaded. I could tellby the look in his eyes that he was probably more worried about what Ryan was going to do to me rather than him.

"That's right, listen to your boy!" Ryan screamed, becoming more agitated as the seconds passed.

"No!" I screamed, my voice echoing around the empty room. "You can't deal with your own problems, can you?" I kept my eyes on the gun as Ryan's finger was twitching slightly. As I spoke, he moved closer to me. I could have reached out and grabbed his ankle if I wanted to. "So you just kill anyone who threatens your relationship with your best friend! You have to stop! You're going to-"

My speech was cut short as his foot collided with the side of my head. My vision swam and I felt my head fall forward as a coppery taste suddenly overcame me. I spat and saw the red mark that it left on the ground. I also heard a small scuffle as Jesse obviously wanted to make Ryan pay for kicking me.

"No you don't," I heard Ryan say as he and Jesse stmbled back a few feet. I couldn't raise my head more than a few inches, so I could only see both of them from the waist down.

"You stupid bitch!" Ryan then yelled at me. I felt the anger build up inside me again. Nobody calls me that and gets away with it! "You don't know what it feelslike to lose someone you love, do you?" He didn't give me the chance to let me tell him that I _had_. I had lost my father. Twice. I had lost Jesse, also twice. "Well, you're about to find out!"

Suddenly, I was gripped by fear once again.

"No!" I yelled, my voice laced with emotion.

Then I heard the gunshot. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Blood dripped onto the ground, Jesse's knees buckled. Then he fell to the ground.

A scream was torn from me as I watched his knees hit the ground. Tears flowed freely down my cheeks as my own head hit the ground.

AndI passed out.

* * *

**AN - Hahahaha. That's all I have to say :). I know it's a quick update, but I had nothing else to do today, being ill and all. I'm happy with this chapter, but it came out nothing like I planned it to, lol. I was going to have Ryan chasing Suze around the warehouse, but that would be...pointless, because Suze could kick his ass anyday.**

**So...is Jesse dead? Is Ryan crazy? Tune in next time, folks. I'll have lots of time to get the next chapter done this weekend. Unless I decide to go and see Superman Returns (out tomorrow! whee!) that is. But it's not over yet, there's still quite a few more chapters left...**

**Thank you again for everyone who reviewed! Try to keep death threats to a minimum for this chapter, hehehe.**

**Disclaimer - I don't own the Mediator or the characters associated with it.**


	12. My Heartstrings Come Undone

**Trials and Tribulations**

_When my heartstrings come undone  
I will wait for you, I will pray for you  
Before I make my final run  
I will stay with you, decay with you_

_**Demon Hunter - My Heartstrings Come Undone**_

I don't know how long I was out, only that when I finally came to, someone had rolled me onto my back. Either that or I was twitching in my sleep again.

At first I wondered why the insides of my eyes were black, and not red, like they were every morning, thanks to the light pouring in through my bedroom window. The next thing that I noticed was that my bed felt strangely like floorboards. And I could feel my ankle throbbing painfully.

Then it all came flooding back. Ryan, Lisa, Taylor, the warehouse, the gun. Oh, no. Jesse.

Jesse is dead.

I didn't even open my eyes, but I could still feel them filling up with tears which trickled down to my ear and onto the ground.

"_Querida_?" My current sob was choked to an end. I opened my eyes, although my vision was blurry, on account of the tears and my post-wake-up haze. But I could clearly see a glowing figure kneeling by my side, and I could feel a cold hand squeezing my own.

So I shut my eyes again. He was dead, but he came back to me.

"_Querida_, open your eyes," he pleaded. That voice shattered my heart.

I brought my hands up to cover my eyes, and as soon as they came into contact with my tear-stained cheeks, I felt my body jerk as another sob was wrenched from me.

"_Querida_, please, let me know you are alright," he begged.

Then I felt hands grab my own and gently pull them away from my face. And there was one thing that caused my sobs and my tears to cease.

The hands were warm.

Suddenly, I opened my eyes and blinked away the tears to see Jesse leaning over me with a concerned expression on his face.

And he was very much alive.

"Jesse?" I sobbed. The smile that my lips twisted themselves into threatened to split my face in half and I bolted upright, throwing my arms around his neck. I barely even noticed the searing pain in my ankle as I dragged myself up.

I felt Jesse's arms wrap protectively around me and he buried his face in my hair as I buried mine in his neck and cried all over again. And this time, I wasn't ashamed of the tears.

"_Querida_," he whispered. "I didn't know what happened to you."

I laughed happily as I playfully thumped him on the back.

"What about me?" I demanded, though my voice was full of joy. "I thought you were dead, you asshole!" I then let out a noise that was somewhere between a laugh and a sob. Jesse just held me closer and I held onto him for dear life. I couldn't believe how close I'd come to losing him.

We sat there in each others arms for a few long minutes before I pulled back when I heard voices behind us.

If Jesse hadn't been holding me, I think I would have thrown up at the sight that lay before me. Ryan was lying face-up on the ground and Officer Johnson held a piece of material to a gushing wound in his neck whilst speaking hastily into his walkie-talkie. Behind him, Paul, Abiand Officer Jackson (Officer Johnson's partner) were consoling a very frightened Lisa. But I turned my attention back to Ryan who looked...well, he didn't look too healthy. In fact, he looked like a corpse.

"He's alive," Taylor told me, and I suddenly realised where the glow was coming from. "But barely. Officer Jackson shot him in the neck as he was about to kill Jesse. If he had shot him in the knee, the shock would have caused him to pull the trigger. He had no choice but to take him out."

Still gripping onto Jesse, I turned to look at Lisa. Poor girl, she was terrified. I noticed Paul turned towards me and he looked at me with sorrow in his eyes. It was all too much to bear, so I turned back to Jesse and leaned my head on his shoulder. It may seem like the end of the world, but at least it's over.

* * *

"Suzie, you have to stop getting involved with people like this!" My mother said in what she probably thought was a comforting voice. 

"Mom, I told you, I didn't know that crazy guy!" I lied. "I just heard screaming and I saw that Abi girl lying on the ground. When she said that a guy had got her friend, Jesse and I did the natural thing and went in to find her."

She began fussing over me again and attempted to sort out my hair. I atempted to move away from her, but the hospital bed was too soft and I ended up just falling onto my side.

"You're lucky you're alive!" She said, pulling me back up to a sitting position. "You're lucky to escape with a sprained ankle and Jesse is lucky to only have a mild concussion. Need I remind you that he had a gun?" I sighed, fighting back the temptation that tell her that it wasn't the first time I had been threatened with a gun. Except technically it was Jesse that was being threatened with it this time.

And yes, we were all lucky. Lisa was treated for shock and several cuts, nothing serious, Jesse only had a mild concussion from when Ryan pistol-whipped him, Abi needed two stitches in her head, and it turned out that I hadn't broken my ankle, only badly sprained it. Ryan, on the other hand, wasn't so fortunate. The nails in his shoudler (courtesy of Jesse) ensured that his arm would be in a sling for a few weeks _if_ he ever woke up. Right now, he is in intenive care with a machine breathing for him. And if he did wake up, there would be several arrest arrants waiting for him. For one account of murder in the first (Taylor), four accounts of assault (me, Jesse, Abi and Lisa), five accounts of attempted murder (me twice, Jesse twice and Lisa) and one account of arson (or something to do with blowing up Paul's car, anyway). Lets just say that if he was aware of the trouble he was in, he would never want to wake up.

The nurse came by about five minutes later and told me that I was free to go. But I didn't want to go. Not when Jesse was forced to stay the night because of his head injury. But both my mother and my fiance instructed me to return home.

* * *

**Jesse's POV**

"I will be fine, _querida_," I assured her, a hand on her upper arms. She was visibly upset. I gently pressed my lips against her forehead, but it did not seem to ease her pain.

"I...I thought I had lost you," she whispered, her voice laced with hurt. I watched helplessly as a lone tear slid down her cheek and I could feel my heartstrings come undone with every milimetre that it fell. I pulled her towards me, hoping to provide some source of comfort for her.

She melted into my arms, as she always did, and I melted into hers. I am ashamed to admit that my attention wandered inappropriately to parts of her anatomy that pressed against me, causing every inch of me to tingle with pleasure. I scolded myself for thinking about her in such an inappropriate manner. But the effect that she had on me was not just physical; the love I felt towards her was more powerful than any physical feeling.

I felt her shake gently in my arms and I felt a sudden wetness on my shoulder.

"_Querida_, please don't cry," I begged. I knew that unless she stopped, the tears would come to my eyes, too. So I did the only thing I could think of. I pulled back, gently tilted her head up and kissed her. I knew that this always made her feel better, for some reason.

She welcomed my advance by opening her mouth and allowing me to slowly slide my tongue inside. I stumbled backwards as she attempted to press herself closer to me (which was impossible) and almost fell backwards onto the hospital bed. I smiled slightly into the kiss and pulled back, causing her to let out a little moan of frustration. I love it when she does that. I allowed her lips to meet mine once again and felt that familiar feeling in my gut. That uncomfortable longing that I felt every time our lips met. I was hungry for more, yet I dared not ask for it. Not until we were wed. I would not do that to Susannah.

I wonder what she feels when she kisses me. I wonder if she feels the same mind-numbing pleasure that I feel when her lips gently caress my own. If what she feels is half as good as what_ I_ feel, then I will be content.

I felt her hand press against my chest and her fingers move north at an agonisingly slow speed. She started to breathe more rapidly and I could feel my own breathing increase, my chest moving in and out against her slim figure .Then, suddenly, I felt another familiar feeling. I felt blood begin to rush...somewhere I didn't want it to. I pulled my head back, breaking the kiss and her hand came to a halt.

"_Querida_, please," I gasped. "If we don't stop..." Susannah smiled, showing that she understood. Still, she brought her face close to mine one last time and let her lips hover millimetres infront of mine before finally placing a tender kiss on them.Oh, I love her _so_ much.

"Call me when you get out?" She asked. I nodded as she pulled herself away from me. I actually had to look down to ensure that all parts of my anatomy were doing as they were told.

"I will call you in the morning," I told her. She turned away from me and began to walk towards her mother who stood at the door, waiting for her. As soon as she had moved away from me, I felt the emptiness. All I wanted was to hold her close and for us to fall asleep in each other's arms. But she needed her rest, and I needed mine.

"Be safe, _querida_," I called after her. She turned and smiled that beautiful smile before disappearing.

Needless to say, when I finally fell asleep, I dreamt only of her.

* * *

**AN - I guess I coudl have let you allsuffer for a few more days, but I've finished this chapter now, so... :). Well, I cut out Taylor's farewell out for a later chapter, but apart from that, it's done :). **

**You knew that I** **wouldn't kill off Jesse :). And I even put a Jesse's POV (which I have been wanting to do since I started this fic, but I never found the right place) bit in this chapter!**

**Thank you for all of the reviews! a lot of last chapter's had me laughing :). I'm having the best review week yet! I just got one of teh best reviews I have ever received on my current RE fic (which I _really_ must update).**

**Disclaimer - I don't own the Mediator or the characters associated with it.**


	13. A Parting Gift

**Trials and Tribulations**

"You certainly know how to get youself into trouble," Andy chuckled. "You other and I hoped that Jesse would be able to . . . tame you, but it looks like we were wrong."

I scowled at my stepfather. Why did my parents have to joke about this? I was almost killed! But I guess that laughing it off made it easier to accept.

There was still no news of Ryan. Three days had passed since the showdown at the warehouse, and he was still in a coma, unable to breathe naturally.He was in surgery almost every day having bits of his throat reconstructed. It mad me sick just thinking about it. He may have been evil, but no-one deserves to die like that.

I had spoken to Lisa, and she was still shaken up. But that was to be expected. Kyle was speaking to me again, and was obviously devasted to find out that the personhe trusted most in the world not only betrayed his beloved sister, but also murdered his fiancee. At least now he had some closure, and was able to move on with his life. He toldme that it would be difficult, but he woudl do it for Taylor's sake and I delivered one last mesage of love from her. It was heartbreaking.

"At least you are alright," Andy said. "Jesse, too. Now you can finally get on with planning your wedding." He placed a sympatheic hand on my shoulder and squeezd it. My shoulder, I mean.

"Yeah," I admitted, my voice soundng distant. There was a lot that needed to be done for the wedding, and to tell the truth, I'm not sure that it can all be done in time.

"Andy?" I said, my voice returning to normal. something had been bugging me for a while now, and I guess it was time to do something about it. "I was wondering if- I mean, do you want- I- Andy, will you walk me down the aisle?" I closed my eyes and braced myself for the answer. Maybe he was the wrong person to ask. Maybe he thought that it would be inappropriate.

"I-Suze, are you sure?" I opened my eyes and saw an expression of complete astonishment on his face. I nodded in reply.

"Then, I'd love to!" He exclaimed. I smiled at the look of pure happiness on his face. I guess I just made his day.

I left Andy smiling in the living room and made my way up to my bedroom.

Gina still slept peacefully on the day bed, so I silently crept past her and sat on my bed. I had barely hit the matress when Teylor appeared on the window seat.

"Hey," I greeted, smiling at her. She smiled back at me.

"I just wanted to thank you," she said. "For everything you have done for me and my family. They all have closure now. Kyle is...he's moving on at last. It broke my heart to see him suffer."

"It was nothing," I assured her. "It's what I do. I'm a mediator. All I did was mediate." Taylor laughed at this.

"You are so modest," she said. She then turned to gaze out of my bedroom window. "The view is beautiful." I smiled as I reslised that it was not the light that was causing her to lok more transparent than usual.

"I . . . I couldn't think of an appropriate way to thank you," she said, not once tearing her yes away from the view. "But . .. I thought of something that may help you." By now, Taylor was little more than a human-shaped glow. "Tell Jesse I'm sorry for everything I put you both through. And thank Paul and Lisa." She turned to me and smiled one final time. "And good luck with your wedding. I wish you all the happiness in the world."

And then she was gone.

* * *

"So she has truly gone?" 

"Yes."

I pulled another fry from the packet and dipped it into the tiny cup of tomato ketchup. Jesse was nice enough to take me anywhere I wanted for lunch, which just so happened to be a fast food restaurant. I needed comfort food, and this was the closest thing I could get to it. Jesse had already finished eating and was waiting patiently for me to scarf down the rest of my fries.

"I think all she wanted was for her family to have closure," I said, swallowing the fry with great effort. "Which they got when Ryan was found out."

"It's a shame," Jesse pointed out, "that an act of kindess turned out to be such a big mistake. If Kyle had not opened his heart to Ryan, then Taylor would still be alive." As horrible as this was, it was true.

"I guess that some people just don't appreciate what others do for them," I said, shovelling four fries into my open mouth. I looked p at a silent Jesse to se that he was smiling. He reached across the table to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear.

"I appreciate everything you have done for me, _querida_," he said. I stopped chewing my fries and swallowed them whole.

"What do you mean?" Jesse smiled at me again.

"You loved me, despite the fact that I was dead," he pointed out. "You brought my body forward through time and therefore gave me a life that was my own. You pushed others - such as Slater - away to stay with me. You never gave up on me, even though I prevented you from having a normal teenage life. You have agreed to no sex until marriage for me. You agreed to spend the rest of your life with me. But most of all, you loved me when I had nothing but my own love to give you."

I could not eat any more fries, because I felt as though I could burst into tears any second. What he had just said touched me. I had never even realised I had done what he had said, so how the hell did _he_ know? I have to say something.

"But your love was enough," I said, my voice becoming sniffly. "It was all I ever wanted. And, besides, bringing your body forward through time was an accident." He laughed at this last sentence.

"You are so modest," he laughed. "But you intended to save my life, proving that you cared more about my happiness than your own. _That _is love." I pushed my fries away and wiped my eyes with the back of my hands.

"Jesse, please stop," I laughed. "You're going to make me cry."

"I'm sorry," he apologised, but I could tell by his smirk that he wasn't. Not really.

He reached out his hand and took mine, his fingers causing my skin to tingle as they lightly brushed the back of my hand. He turned his attention to my engagement ring and began to finger it absent-mindedly.

"We need to buy wedding rings," he told me. I knew this, of course. It was one of the many things that we had yet to do.

"I can't believe that we will be married soon," I admitted. "It doesn't seem that long since I was wondering why you didn't notice me."

"I always noticed you," he laughed. "It just took me a while to understand what I was feeling." He did not look me in the eye; he was still gazing down at my hand.

"Promise me one thing, _querida_," he asked, finally looking into my eyes. "Promise me that you will put all...all of your mediating duties on hold for a while. At least until after the wedding."

"Sure," I agreed. I think I need a rest fom all things otherworldly for the time being. Especially if this wedding is to go ahead.

* * *

I had been home for less than an hour when someone knocked on the door. Being the only person in the house (save Gina, who technically doesn't live here) I had to answer the door.

Imagine my surprise when I found Mrs. Ramone, Taylor's mother, standing on our porch with a large box in her arms.

"Oh, hello," she said when she saw me. I guess she hadn't really expected me to be home. "It's Suze, isn't it?"

"Yes," I replied, smiling as nicely as I could. "How can I help you, Mrs. Ramone?"

Mrs. Ramone looked down at the box in her arms and took a step towards me.

"I...I was going through Taylor's things this morning, and...and I found a letter she must have written before...before what happened." I looked down at the large white box and notice the words 'Vera Wang' embossed onto the cardboard."Well...it turned out that she wanted you to have this." Mrs. Ramone held the box out towards me and I carefully took it off her. "And...well, I hope it makes you as happy as it made her."

She threw me a heart-breaking look before turning around and heading back to her car.

I was speechless.

It took me about ten seconds to slam the front door shut and sprint up the stairs to my bedroom. I think I knew what was in that box.

"Whoa, girl!" Gina said as I zoomed past her, dropping the box onto my bed and removing the lid...to see that it _was_ what I thought.

That beautiful dressTaylor wore every single time I had seen her lay folded up in box with her tiara nestled snugly on to of the silky material.

"Oh, my God!" Gina exclaimed as I pulled the dress out of the box and held it up in front of me. "That is _gorgeous_!" Me? I was still speechless.

"Pu it on! Put it on!" Gina squealed, jumping up and down (yes, literally).

So, I did. And it was a perfect fit. And it hung perfectly on me, accentuating my curves and hiding my wobbly bits.

"It's perfect!" Gina announced. Like I needed her to tell me.

I twirled around a few times, admiring the detail on the sleeves and the way the material pulled towards the back.

"Hey, Suze, there's a letter in here," Gina pointed out, pulling a small piece of paper out of the seemingly empty box and handingit to me.

_Dear Suze,_

_I know that I have stolen precious time from you, time which you need to plan your wedding. So, to ease the burden, I give yo uthis dress. Think of it as a wedding gift from me. I know how difficult it has been for you to find a dress that you can afford, let alone a nice one. I know it may seem a bit . . . morbid to wear something that someone died in, but I believe that this dress should not go to waste. And you will be able to make more use of itthan I ever could._

_Once again, thank you fo al that you have done for me, and I wish you and Jesse a very happy life together._

_Wth love,_

_Taylor_

I had to sit down after reading this letter. So that's what she had meant when she said that she had thought of something that "may help" me. It was touching. I had barely known the girl, yet she had given me her wedding dress. Her very expensive designer wedding dress, no less.

I stood up to observe my reflection once more.

Maybe things were going to work out after all.

* * *

**AN - And guess what's next:) The wedding will probably stretch over two or three chapters.**

**And...I've aready started the first chapter of my next fic...it's technically unrelated, but if you wanted to, you could consider it as a follow-on to this. But it's a standalone. And will be much darker than this and Only The Good. Probably an M. What? I ran out of Prison Break reruns and needed to type the idea down before I forgot it. But I've got two more hours of PB coming up...so I'm on downtime. For now :).**

**Thank you to all my reviewers...now, go review!**

**And I'll go update Cursed...maybe...if I can get the next chapter typed up.**


	14. Hey, Kiddo

**Trials and Tribulations**

_Though I can't know for sure how things worked out for us  
No matter how hard it gets, you have to realize  
We weren't put on this earth to suffer and cry.  
We were made for being happy._

_**Melissa Williamson (composed by Akira Yamaoka) - Letter (From The Lost Days)**_

"Get up! Get up!" I heard someone scream as they leapt up and down on my bed. I raised myhand as if to swat away some pesky fly.

"It's too early!" I grumbled. I wouldn't be ready to surface for at least another hour. Last night was...wild. Even though I didn't drink anything, being underage and all (not that it stopped Gina). As far as hen nights go, that was...

Hen night?

Oh, my God!

I bolted uprght, suddenly not sleepy at all and grabbed Gina's ankles.

"It's today," I mumbled, delirious probably from my lack of sleep. Gina sank down to her knees and grinned at me. Last night obviously hadn't affected her at all.

"Get used to being called Simon," she told me. "You're only gonna be Simon for another...four hours!"

She then rolled off my bed and began to rummage round in her travel bag. I should probably point out that her travel bag was full of make-up.

"I'll let you shower first," she offered, pulling out several tubes of mascara. "Your hairdresser will be here in an hour. Once that's done, I'll do your make-up and...Oh, my God, I can't believe you're doing this!"

I fell backwards onto my bed. _I_ couldn't believe that I was doing this. After the business with Taylor back in July, I didn't think that I would ever see this day.

The past month was pretty hectic. I mean, we had a whole wedding to plan. And then there was all the statements Jesse and I had to give about the warehouse incident. But we did get a lot of help from Taylor's family, who seemed to think that they owed it to me for bringing her murderer to justice. Or the ICU.

The good news was that Ryan was now concious and able to breathe without the aid of a machine, and his court date had therefore been set. I can't remember the exact date, but it was sometime in September and Jesse, Lisa, Abi, Paul and mysef had been called as witnesses. As far as we know, Ryan is pleading not guilty to all charges. Despite the fact that two cops saw him with a gun pointed at Jesse's head and all the other damning evidence against him.

But I was determined to push all memories of that affair out of my head for today. Because, accordnig to many bridal magazines, this day is all about me. And my husband-to-be, of course.

I don't think I have ever showered so quickly. Seriously. I was in and out before Gina had zipped up her make-up bag.

All she did was laugh at me and shake her head.

Can I help it if I am excited?

I composd myself and found my robe before making my way downstairs for breakfast. Andy was going all-out. Practically everything you could eat for breakfast was spread out on the table. There were croissants, pain au chocolat, pancakes, plates of bacon and sausages and even the boxes of half-eaten cereal from the cupboard.

"I didn't knowwhat you would feel like," Andy admitted. "So I figured, why not give her a bit of everything?" Despite how ridiculous it was, I laughed. Because it was so nice of him to cook for me when I could easily have settled for a bowl of Ricicles.

I took the croissants and one pain au chocolat before telling everyone else to dig in. The bacon smelled delicious, but I actualy _want_ to fit into my dress, thank you very much.

Not that the croissants weren't delicious, they totally were. Even the pain au chocolat was so good it left me with that guilty feeling that one usually develops after scoffing down a whole tub of Ben and Jerry's.

"So...when do I get to meet this boy?" That was my grandmother. Mom picked her up from the airport last night, while Gina and CeeCee were busy attempting to humiliate me using various objects they foundon the roadside.

At first, my grandmother was shocked that I was marrying at such a young age (and marrying a man three years and a couple of months older than me), but once my mother told her all about Jesse, she seemed to calm down a bit. Except now, she envisioned Jesse as some sort of saint. He may be a gentleman, but he's certainly no saint. A saint wouldn't have killed anyone before. But she doesn't need to know that. Not since said murder occured one hundred and seventy-two years ago, and technically it wasn't _my_ Jesse who commited it. And he would have got off with self defense anyway.

"You won't be able to meet him until the reception," I told her. "But you will see him in the church."

She made a sort of 'pfft' sound and took her now-empty plate over to the kitchen.

"I just dread to think of what your father would make of all this," she muttered on her way out.

I had to surpress a giggle. I knew perfectly well what my father made of all this. He was perfectly happy about my relatonship with Jesse. Infact, he even gave Jesse permission to marry me. Not that he needed it. Permission, I mean.

"Take no notice of her," my mother told me. "Your father would be happy for you."

"Oh," I replied, smiling. "I don't doubt that."

We had barely finished breakfast when my hairdresser (aka. Mom's friend) arrived. She had already pinned my hair up the way it was to be today many times before. Gina made me try it out a few times before the big day, incase I changed my mind about it. But I loved it. My hair was curled slightly, and only the top half was pinned up by a diamante clip. It sounds boring, but it looked fantastic with the dress. And my tiara (_tiara_!) slid perfectly into place. Of course, I had a millions pins practically stuck into my scalp to keep everything in place, but it was worth it. I wanted to look perfect today. I wanted everything to be perfect.

The congregation in the living room barely had time to admire Justine's handiwork before Gina dragged me back upstairs to slather my make-up on.

"Not too much!" I said as she drew nearer with a strangely shaped sponge.

"Suze, chill!" She laughed. "And trust me." I did a perfect imitation of my grandmother's 'pfft' noise before sitting perfectly still and letting the master go to work.

For ten long minutes, I was plagued by visions of myself removing Christina Aguilera-esque make-up on the car on the way to the church. Just like in My Big Fat Greek Wedding. Only, Toula was forced to wear hers during the actual ceremony.

So, imagine my surprise when I opened my eyes to discover a perfectly-made-up me. Seriously. She had applied foundation (which I never used because I can never get it right), silver eyeliner, mascara and a pale eyeshadow. It was subtle, yet made me glow. It was...perfect.

"See," Gina said, obviously pleased with herself. "Didn't I tell you to trust me? Now, into the dress!"

I could feel my fingers shaking as they touched the delicate, silky fabric. I was terrified to touch it, incase I damaged it. It looked more delicate than before, and I was suddenly aware of the delicate stitching between each section of fabric.

It took a lot of effort for me to pull the beautiful gown over my head, but I did it eventully. Not only did this dress look good, it also _felt_ good. It was tight, yet not too tight, and the fabric felt soft and sensuous against my skin. Once again, I mentally thanked Taylor for giving this dress to me.

"Wow," Gina said, coming up behind me. "If seeing you in thatisn't enough to make Jesse fall in love with you all over again, then you're marying the wrong guy . . . In which case, I'll take him."

You can imagine the size of the smile that my lips twisted themselves into.

"Stay here," she instructed. Like I could go anywhere. "I'll get your shoes and find out when the cars will be here." Then she was gone.

Not that I noticed her leave. I was too busy gazing at my reflection, realising that this will be the last outfit I will wear as Susannah Simon. I was so impressed by whatI saw that I twirled around a few times, holding the bottom of my dress up. Gina was right. I am pretty sure that Jesse has never seen me looking ths good before. He has seen me soaking wet, smelling like fish, covered in grime, smeared with mud, bloody and bruised, yet he has not seen me looking this...well...elegant. By this time, I had been smiling so long that my cheeks were beginning to ache.

Which was a bad thing, really, considering what happened next. Max, who had been scratching at my closed bedroom door began to whimper and then ran away. Then, I felt a tingle in the air. I knew what this emant, but I could not understand it...unless. Oh, no. The only possible explanation was that Ryan had died and had come to seek his revenge. _'I can't fight in this dress_!' I thought. _'I'll ruin it_!' I didn't even turn around. I couldn't, I was paralysed by my fear.

"Oh, Suzie," the visitor said. "You look . . . stunning."

Suddenly, my fear evaporated. But I was still paralysed. That voice...it was impossible!

Once I had regained control of my limbs, I slowly turned to face my visitor.

"Dad?" I half-sobbed. Tears were threatening to fill my eyes and ruin my make-up. I hope that Gina used waterproof mascara.

"Hey, kiddo," he replied, ascasually as if he hadn't been dead and gone for the past...year.

"But...how?" The tears were actually forming now. He realised this and took a step towards me, reaching out a hand to wipe them away.

"For someone who's been dead and gone for as long as I have," he said, obviously mimicking my words about Maria, "it must have taken something big to bring me back."

"You . . . you came back for me?" I choked. It was all becoming too much for me to cope with. It had taken me months to adjust to the fact that I would never see him again, yet here he is in all his ghostly glory. He was even wearing that 'Homeport Menemsha, Fresh Seafood All Year Round' t-shirt that I had become soaccustomed to seeing him in.

"Don't flatter yourself, Suzie," he joked, laughing at me. "The one regret I had, when i realised that I was moving on, was that I could not be there when you marry. That I couldn't be with you on the happiest day of your life. I gues that was enough to bring me back . . . though I doubt that I will be here long."

We stood in silence for a minute or so while I got my head around the fact that my wedding was enough to bring him back, even if it is only for one day.

I felt like I had to say something. One thing came to mind, but it didn't seem appropriate. It's funny how I ended up asking it anyway.

"What was it like?" I asked. "When you . . . you know, moved on. What happened?"

He looked at me all confused for a moment before sighing and closing his eyes. A smile played across his lips.

"I don't really remember much," he admitted. "But I was happy. It was a nice place. I knew that you were happy, and that your mother was too. I felt like I had nothing tying me to this world anymore. But obviously, I did."

I placed a finger under one of my exquisitely made-up eyes and dabbed the tears away. A quick glance in the mirror told me that Gina had, indeed, used waterproof mascara. Thank goodness for small mercies.

My father reached out and took my hand, the left one, and observed my ring.

"It's a beautiful ring," he observed. "Must have cost a pretty penny, too." He raised his gaze to meet my own and for the first time in so long, I felt myself missing him all over again. Because he may be here now, but come tonight, he would be long gone. And I doubt that he would be coming back.

I didn't have much longer to think about this, however, because right at that moment, Gina burst through my bedroom door and thrust my shoes at me.

"They're here!" She screeched as my father politly dematerialized.

It's time.

* * *

**AN - I apologise for the shortness and lack of quality of this chapter, but it's just a filler :). Since I scrubbed my idea to include Suze's dad in Only The Good (I originally intended for him to appear during the exorcism and drag Harold up to the Shadowland and hold him there to ensure that he moved on completely), I decided to let him go to his daughter's wedding. It basically works along the lines of his regret that he could not see the day that his daughter became truly happy, and this was enough to bring him back for that day. Just like the Diegos were brought back by the fact that their dirty little secret was about to be exposed.**

**Anyway, I'm taking a short break from writing. I'm planning on a week, but I'll probably only take a couple of days off, lol. I just don't want to tire myself out like I did once before.I will try and get the next chapter up by the 4th, when I will be going away for a day or two. In the meantime, I've got another Cursed chapter coming up...a good one for the Jesse fans...maybe even for the Paul fans, too.**

**And thank you again to my reviewers! Now go leave me some nice reveiws to persuade me to get back to writing soon, lol.**


	15. Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now

**Trials and Tribulations**

I knew that something would go wrong. It just _had_ to. This wouldn't be _my_ wedding unless something went hideously wrong.

Like when my lungs decide that they want to sit this one out. Seriously, that's what it felt like, like they had just stopped working. I was breathing, but no oxygen was entering my lungs.

"Shit," I heard Gina swear. "Suze, calm down, calm down, you're going to pass out if you don't breathe."

'Well I _would_ breathe if I _could!_' I wanted to yell but, like I said, my lungs had all but shrivelled up and died.

So all I could do was allow my bridesmaids to drag me to the car and fan me with their miniature bouqets until I was finally breathing steadily.

I could practically see that panic attack coming. But it still scared the crap out of me nonetheless and I was convinced that I was dying. But according to CeeCee, that's all part of the attack.

I didn't blame my body for shutting down the way it did; all morning, I could feel this wave of anxiety slowly washing over me. It may be the happiest day of my life, but that didn't mean that I wasn't terrified. Because it is a twenty minute journey to the church, and that is more than enough time for some higher force to throw yet another obstacle in my way.

"Suze, just calm down and stop thinking that something is going to go wrong!" CeeCee instructed me. "You're marrying Jesse! Nothing is going to go wrong."

I smiled at her as the car sped away from my house.

It didn't hit me then that I would be spending no more nights in my canopy bed. That my princess phone and window seat were things of the past. All of my posessions were currently packed away in boxes that were piled in Jesse's spare room. _Our_ spare room, actually. As we had no luck securing our own house, or a bigger apartment, I would be moving in with Jesse after the honeymoon. Not that I was complaining. As long as we were together, I didn't care where we lived.

The journey to the church was agonisingly long, and I could feel another panic attack threatening to occur. I was so nervous that I even began to pick at the flowers in my bouquet (made up of orchids and lillies, lillies being my favourite flowers and orchids for their significance) until my bridesmaids made me stop.

When the car eventually pulled up to the church, the knot that had formed in my stomach seemed to tighten until I was afraid that I would throw up. I wanted nothing more than to race through those heavy oak doors and marry the man who was waiting for me on the other side, but part of me wanted to leap out of the car and run as far away from the church as I could. Not because I didn't want to marry Jesse, because I so did. I was just terrified that something would go wrong, that he would say "I don't" and I would be left crying at the altar. Not that he would ever do that, but incase you haven't noticed, my self-esteem isn't exactly sky high. I went sixteen years without a guy so much as looking at me, so excuse me if I'm not exacly Miss Confident.

After a few kind words of reassurance from CeeCee and Gina, I dragged myself and my Vera Wang dress out of the car and waited for the rest of my family to enter the church. Soon only myself, my bridesmaids and Andy remained outside the church.

"Are you ready?" My stepfather asked me. I flashed him a nervous smile and let him take my arm. That was when I felt a hand on my other arm, this one cold and devoid of life.

My father smiled at me, his hand in the crook of my arm, adn I suddenly felt my heart swell with joy. This was really happening.

Then, my bridesmaids held the church doors open and I stepped through the doors . . . and into my next stage of life.

* * *

**Jesse's POV**

I turned when I heard the doors open and there she stood. It had been almost twenty-four hours since I last lay eyes on her, and this was too long.

She looked more beautiful than usual as she walked towards me in a hauntingly familiar dress, both her stepfather and birth father walking with her up the aisle. In her hands she held a bouquet of crimson lilies and white orchids. I smiled at the irony of this. Orchids held a special meaning for us both. Every time that I bought her flowers I ensured that there was at least one orchid, hidden away if necessary.

She looked radiant.

The knot that had formed in my stomach shortly before she arrived had unravelled, and suddenly I was filled with the knowledge that everything would be alright. She was here and she was safe.

* * *

**Suze's POV**

I noticed the way that he looked at me as both my fathers led me up the aisle. It actally amde me nervous, because I wondered what he made of my dress.

"You look beautiful," he whispered to me when I finally stood beside him. My smile threatened to split my face in two.

"The dress was a gift from Taylor," I explained, though it was obvious that he already knew.

I felt his hand slip silently into my own. I enjoyed the way that it soothed my somehwat sensitive nerves. He squeezed my hand gently to assure me that everything was going to be fine. And I did not doubt it.

"Yes, but it looks better on you," he whispered. I could tell by his proximity that he was dying to kiss me, or at least hold me. I knew the feeling. I had not been this close to him since yesterday morning and the urge to just grab ahold of him was almost overpowering.

"Dearly beloved," Father Dominic spoke, and suddenly my eyes zoomed to the man infront of me, rather than the man beside me. "We are gathered here today to witness..."

Suddenly by brain completely zoned out. I could see Father Don's mouth moving but I couldn't for the life of my figure out what he was saying. I settled for dragging my eyes around the church, taking in my surroundings. I noticed Adam (whom Jesse had chosen as best man...can you believe it?) standing nervously with the rings and my father standing beside him, looking as happy as I have ever seen him.

Father Dom continued to talk for a while until he finally looked up at Jesse.

"Jesse, if you would repeat after me," he asked. Jesse smiled at the good father. Of course he would.

"I, Jesse de Silva," Father Dom read.

"I, Jesse de Silva," my almost-husband repeated. And he repeated all that Father Dom read. "Take thee, Susannah Simon, to be my lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for betterandfor worse. For richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, 'til death dous part." I noticed the corners of Jesse's mouth turn up slightly at this last vow. I, myself, had to surpress a giggle. For we both knew that death would not part us. It didn't stop us getting together in the first place, and it sure as hell wasn't going to tear us apart.

"Susannah, repeat after me," Father Dom instructed me. And I did.

"I, Susannah Simon, take thee, Jesse de Silva, to be my lawfully wedded husband..." But the words meant nothing to me. It was the act. Jesse and I were getting married. _We were getting married_!

Jesse's hands never felt so good on mine as they did when we exchanged the rings. As soon as th egold band slid onto Jesse's ring finger, it all hit me. The fact that we were now as one, and would be for all eternity, if Madam Zara was right. The ring on _his_ finger made it all seem so final...so _real_.

"If anyone can think of a reason why these two should not be wed," Father Dom said to the congregation. "Speak now or forever hold your peace."

I nervously looked over my shoulder, in Paul's general direction. All he did was smile and wave cheerily at me. I swallowed down the lump in my throat and turned back to face Father Dom. A perfect smile adorned his ageing features as he realised that there was now nothing stopping him from joining us. Or maybe he just realised that he would not have to worry about Jesse and I giving into our unbridled lust for each other.

Father Dom smiled at us with what could only be pure happiness in his eyes.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife...you may kiss the bride." What is it with all this sexism? Kiss the bride? Why couldn't_ I_ kiss the _groom_?

I stopped caring when Jesse's lips covered mine. I think that people were clapping and cheering, but I was too into the kiss to notice. It was a perfect kiss. It was not passionate and it was not rushed; it was romantic and gentle. Tongues were involved, but it was church tongue, not porno tongue,you know?

I had to restrain myself from running my hand over the abs that were covered by that damn shirt he wore. I may be in love with him, and I may not be religious, but there are certain things that you just don't do in a house of God. Beating the crap out of a nineteenth-century floozy in a churchwas another one of them, but whatever.

It only took us a few seconds to rush out of the church and into thelimo that waited for us (Jesse had to carry me most of the way because of my shoes, but it was romantic so I didn't mind). Before I squeezed into the long, white car, I paused to throw my bouquet. I didn't want to because it was so beautiful, but it was tradition. I turned my back to the crowd and heaved my bouquet over my shoulder. I heard a lot of squealing (most of it came from Gina, I expect) and I turned around to see who had caught it.

"Wow," Jesse said, half laughing. "That was unexpected."

I scanned the crowd to see a very stunned looking Adam half-holding my bouqet. It looked as though it had fallen on him. He gave a tiny laugh of embarasment as he held it properly before looking at CeeCee and shrugging as if to say 'maybe it isn't so bad, after all'.

"Let's go, Mrs. de Silva," Jesse said, smiling as heheld the car door open for me.

"Why thank you, Mr. de Silva," I said in the poshest voice I could manage. Soon we were in the car and on our way to the reception.

"Do you need help with that?" Jesse asked as I fought to remove my veil. I laughed and accepted his offer. But it was obvious from the angle he came towards me at that it was only an excuse to get closer to me. My suspicions were confirmed as his lips _somehow_ landed on mine whilst he was removing my veil.

Maybe it was marriage, or maybe it was just that we hadn't seen each other for twenty-four hours, but somehow the emotions and feelings that surfaced when our lips touched seemed to intensify.I felt myself melting into him, unable to move. All I wanted was him.

"Is this a bad time?" A voice asked.

Holy CRAP!

Jesse ripped himself away from me and I bolted upright, desperately trying to pull one of my shoulder straps back onto my shoulder.

"Dad!" I gasped. "You have to stop that. It's really rude!"

My father wrinkeld his nose.

"Don't worry," he said. "Had I known that you were in the process of...consumating your marriage...I would have waited."

I blushed and pressed the control to raise the shield between the driver and the back of the limo. I didn't want him to think that I was crazy.

"We weren't," I mumbled. "We were just...yeah, so how are you doing?"

"Oh, I just thought that I would pay the happy couple one last visit," he said, smirking. I turned to look at my husband (_husband_!) and saw that he was just as embarassed as I was. I'm sure he was blshhing. It's hard to tell with Jesse's colouring, but I'm pretty sure that he was.

"I don't know how much longer I will be here," he stated. "And I wanted to say hello to Jesse before I get pulled back to...whereverI was."

Jesse smiled politely at my father. But that was him all over; polite, gentlemanly.

"It is good to see you again, sir," he said. I could tell that he was happy for me. Happy that I could see my father on the happiest day of my life. Yet another testament to his love for me.

"It's good to see you," my father agreed. "It's been too long. But I know what's been going on. I just want to give you both my blessing. I can see how happy you make my daughter."

I felt Jesse squeeze my hand when he spoke those words. I squeezed it back to show him that it was true. Because he did make me happy. He made me so happy.

"Dad," I said, still holding Jesse's hand. "Incase I never see you again, I just want you to know that both my mom and I are happy. I want you to rest in peace with that knowledge. And don't you dare come back again! Not if you are happy." He chuckled.

I felt the car pull to a stop. We were here. I just hoped that Andy had remembered to bring our luggage over. He said that he would drive us both to the airport after the reception.

"You," my father said, pointing at Jesse. "You just look after my little girl." Jesse smiled and assured him that he would before I hugged my father and exited the limo. I knew then that that would be the last time I ever spoke to him. My father, I mean. And this time I didn't cry. Becasue I knew that he would be happy.

* * *

"_Querida_," Jesse said, his expression one of amusement. He held out a hand for me to take, but I would not. 

"But...I can't dance," I protested. Jesse laughed and took my hand anyway, pullingme to my feet.

"I have memories that suggest otherwise," he told me. "Now let's dance."

His hand slid around my waist as we approached the centre of the dancefloor. Then the music started.

_**And I'd give up forever to touch you  
Cause I know that you feel me somehow  
You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be  
And I don't want to go home right now **_

I smiled. After much deliberation, we had decided on _Iris_ by Goo Goo Dolls as the soundtrack to our first dance. Because the lyrics rang true with respects to our relationship. Our ghostly relationship, of course. It was a beautiful song and it was perfect for us.

I swayed gently in his arms, taking in every word and enjoying every emotion that Johnny Rzeznik's voice brought forward. This was _our_ song, and we were finally able to dance to it as husband and wife.

**_And all I can taste is this moment  
And all I can breathe is your life  
Cause sooner or later it's over  
I just don't want to miss you tonight  
_**

"I love you," Jesse whispered into my hair. In English, too!

"I love you too," I told him. "Say something to me in Spanish."

I felt him chuckle into my hair, then he began to speak. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the sound of his voice. I didn't know what he was saying, but his voice was so full of love that I felt tears come to my eyes.****

And I don't want the world to see me  
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand  
When everything's made to be broken  
I just want you to know who I am

His Spanish slowly faded to nothingas he pulled his head back and kissed me on the lips. I felt my whole body shudder and I literally collapsed in his arms. We were still dancing, but I did not notice anything but him. The way his lips gently caressed my own, the way his strong hands lovingly held me upright, the way he caused me to moan quietly into the kiss. Everything was so perfect. So...Jesse.

**_And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming  
Or the moment of truth in your lies  
When everything seems like the movies  
Yeah you bleed just to know you're alive  
_**

We kissed for at least a verse and a chorus before he pulled back and kissed me again, this time very briefly, before I pulled him as close to me as was possible.

"I finally have you," he whispered menacingly. I smiled.

"Not yet you don't," I reminded him, placing a tender kiss on his neck...right on a spot I happened to know was very sensitive. I was delighted when I felt his squirm slightly in my embrace. "But later..." I trailed off, but he got the message.

"Later," he promised.

**_And I don't want the world to see me  
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand  
When everything's made to be broken  
I just want you to know who I am  
_**

We danced until the song drew to a close, never once pulling apart. I knew that this was the start of our new life together. A new, happy life. No more pain, no more sorrow, no more unrequited love. We were together at last. And just like that song said, nothing's gonna stop us now.

**_I just want you to know who I am_**

* * *

**AN - Sorry if that was a bit...disappointing. But I need to save a lot of my S/J drive if I am going to do what I'm going to do next...;)**

**So it isn't the end...technically...still one last chapter to go...when I work up the guts to do it. I've never wrote a 'honeymoon' scene before snickers.**

**Song credits go to Goo Goo Dolls with Iris (which I think perfectly sums up the S/J relationship throughout the books. And the song mentioned at the end is, of course, Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now by Starship (or Jefferson Starship).**

**There is another fic coming out after this for those of you who don't read the next chapter...It's called Something Wicked, and I'm almost finished the first chapter. It will probably be an M, and it's technically a stand alone, but it can be considered as a follow on to this...I'm basically using this for the background info. I'm still working on Cursed, but I need a modern-day fic to write aswell...just don't ask me why, lol.**

**But thank you all for the reviews...I almost had a heart attack when I saw how many I got for last chapter...seriously, I was thinking "why have my OTG reviews went down?...holy hell that's Trials!"**

**So make me a happy bunny yet again and review :)**

**Disclaimer- I own nothing. Not even the song :(.**


	16. End of Innocence

**Trials and Tribulations**

**AN - WARNING! Yeah, this chapter is kinda rated M...I think...yeah, M to be safe. So DON'T read if you are sensitive to M material. Also, i****n this chapter, the POV changes. You can probably guess who is speaking and when.**

Wow.

That's all I have to say.

Just...wow.

I have seen many photos of St. Lucia but none of them do the real thing any justice at all. I have heard that the Caribbean is beautiful, but I never expected _this_.

The view as the coach took us to our hotel was made even morestunning by the fact that the sun was setting. And you haven't _seen_ a sunset until you've seen a Caribbean sunset.

"Wow..." I said. I heard soft laughter from beside me, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from the ribbons of red and gold that stretched out across the horizon. Even though the sight beside me was so much better. But the sight beside me is now available twenty-four seven. Much to my delight.

"You picked the right place," Jesse told me, squeezing my hand. My hand happened to be resting on my thigh, so his fingers lightly brushed my skin as he did this. Needless to say, I squirmed a little in my seat from the effect this small action had on me. I guess it didn't help that I wore a dress which hiked up to mid-thigh when I sat down.

To my surprise, Jesse's hand did not move when he touched the bare skin of my thigh. Then I remembered...we are married. I smiled as the realisation hit me. _We are married_. No more cold showers for Suze. No more holding back for Jesse, either. I have been waiting for this day for so long.

The coach finally pulled up to our hotel at about 9pm. The sunhad almost completely set and the white walls of the hotel were bathed in orange light. It looked so...romantic. Everything did to me today.

Jesse placed his hand in mine and together we carried our luggage up to our room (after checking in, of course).

I have to say it again.

_**Wow!**_

We are _so_ coming back here for every significant anniversary. The room is incredible. The walls are white (a bad colour for me) and the cream bed sheets match the sofa in the second part of the room. Yes, the _second_ part of the room! Thereis the bedroom, then thereis the room you enter when you walk through the door. The first room was also painted white, with a cream sofa and huge light brown curtains covering screen doors which led to a balcony with the most amazing view ever. I can't describe how beautiful it really is, but you could see the mountains and all the way out to sea. I could see the sun sinking into the horizon far more clearly here than I could on the coach.

If this wasn't good enough, I suddenly felt a pair of muscular arms wrap themselves around me. They were closely followed by lips that gently caressed the skin of my throat. I leaned my head back until it rested on his shoulder and moaned to show him how he was making me feel.

"_Te amo, querida_," he whispered. I pulled away from him.

I didn't think that anyone would be able to see through our glass doors, but I wasn't taking the risk. The last thing I wanted was to share this moment with the rest of the Caribbean.

"So...we are speaking Spanish now, are we?" I teased, moving to close the heavy curtains. He replied by saying something else in Spanish. I didn't know what it was, but it sounded...well...hot. There is no other word to describe it.

When the damn curtains were finally closed, I felt his arms around me again. But this time they lifted me up and he began to carry me to the bedroom. Wow. Screw the damn view, _this_ was amazing. You have no idea how many times I have dreamt about this. Him carrying me in those strong, muscular arms and then laying me gently onto the soft matress. And he did this time. As opposed to just dumping me onto the bed like he did that time my Jimmy Choos mauled my feet.

He barely gave enough time for my body to breathe before he covered it with his own.

Usually, I hate being trapped, but somehow I liked this. The way he pressed himself into me whilst bracing himself so as not to crush me.

But instead of kissing me all romantically, he let his lips hover above mine for a few seconds before laughing and saying "It was a long flight, you must be hungry" then pushing himself to his feet.

I lay there in utter disbelief.

He did _not_ just do that...

As he walked away, he threw me a rather cheeky smile over his shoulder. I just sat there and fumed.He was right everytime he said that I was not the only one who could tease.

Once my anger and frustration had subsided, I wandered out to meet him and found him standing by the bar (_bar_! I'm not even twenty-one yet!), drink in hand.

"Drink?" He asked me, signalling to a bottle of wine he had obviously just opened. He couldn't be serious. Could he?

"Um...Jesse, I'm only eighteen," I reminded him. He simply shrugged and proceeded to pour me a glass of the sparkling liquid.

"So is the legal drinking age here," he said, holding out the glass. I took it from him with a smile on my face. I can't believe that he is letting me drink alcohol, even if the legal drinking age in St. Lucia is eighteen. Jesse has always been wary of my alcohol consumption ever since the time Adam raided his mom's liquor cabinet on the night of CeeCee's eighteenth birthday party. I don't remember much from that night, only that I threw up all over Jesse's bathroom. Yes, _all_ over his bathroom. And if you are wondering why I was at Jesse's, he dragged me home after my second collision with CeeCee's sliding glass doors. Needless to say, not a single drop of alcohol has passed my lips since that day. Until now, of course.

So you can see why I won't lie and say that I have never consumed alcohol before.

"Besides," Jesse continued. "It is champagne. And I believe that you drink champagne when you are celebrating. And aren't we celebrating our marriage?" He smiled at me once more and I melted again.

I took a swig of the champagne and ended up spluttering as the bubbles tickled the back of my throat. Suddenly, memories of that fateful party came flooding back.

Jesse didn't even help. He just stood there laughing as I tried to shake off the sudden headache that had come over me.

I guess that's what I get for drinking alcohol too fast.

When I saw the funny side and started laughing myself, Jesse took my arm and guided me to the sofa. I fell down on it with enough force to send one of the pillows bouncing onto the floor.

"I'm sorry," I replied between chuckles. "Today has been...intense."

"It has," Jesse agreed. "I certainly never expected your grandmother's gift."

I laughed in agreement.

My grandmother had surprised us all by presenting us with the keys to a two-bedroomed apartment in Carmel. She even brought pictures with her, and it's huge! And beautiful, _and_ furnished. I couldn't believe it. Especially when she told me that she drew half the money out of a bank account my _father_ had set up with the understanding that it would go to pay towards my wedding. When she discovered that my mom and Andy were paying for the whole thing as their present, she decided to buy an apartment for us with the money. We are moving in the day after we return.

"Today was amazing," he informed me, nuzzling my neck. It was an amazing sensation and almost elicited a moan from me, but I decided not to give him the satisfaction. I wanted to make him squirm before I gave into him. Sadly, judging by the tingling in my lower regions, I would be the one doing the squirming.

"What do you want to do now?" He asked, his breath warm against my skin. "We could unpack."

I could feel his lips twist into a smile. Of course, he was joking. I felt like playing along with his little game, but I was beginning to wonder if us females have a downstairs brain. If we do, mine has taken over. The only unpacking I will be doing tonight will be the unpacking of the three packs of condoms hastily shoved into my hand luggage after their purchase at the duty free. What? _I_ didn't know how many we would need! All I know is that I panicked upon realising that we had left the packet purchased in advance in Jesse's living room (we had returned to his apartment after the reception into change into our travelling clothes).

"Well," I replied, putting on the most seductive voice I could manage. Which probably meant that I sounded like Garth from Wayne's World. "It _is_ our wedding night."

Jesse shifted his position so that he was practically on top of me, his lips still working their magic on my neck.

"Pray tell, what one is supposed to do on their wedding night?" He asked, his voice sounding effortlessly seductive. I really need to get him to teach me how to do that.

"Well," I replied, breathing becoming increasingly difficult. "We...we could..._oh_!"

My eyes rolled into the back of my head as his lips landed in the dip in my collarbone. Suddenly I was more aware of my body than usual. I knew what it wanted and I knew that it wanted it _now_.

He picked me up once again and carried me back to the bedroom, laying me down on the bed once more and then covering my body with his.

And this time he didn't pull away.

He sucked lightly on my bottom lip as his hand landed in the crook of my knee, pulling my leg up so that he could push himself further into me. I sighed and he smiled into the kiss, his hand beginning to wander north.

"_Nombre de..._" He gasped, his voice heavy with passion as his hand brushed up my thigh, his fingers brushing gently against my underwear. I thanked all that was holy that Gina had insisted on the _'something old, something new...'_ thing. The '_something new_' had been purchased at Victoria's Secret. Need I say any more?

I could not think of this for too long because his lips began to move lower and lower and the feeling...well, down below...yeah, that...it began to intensify. He moved his hands to my hips and he pulled them up so that he was able to slide his hands underneath me. I did not realise what he was doing until his hand began to move towards the zip of my dress. _Oh_. He made damn sure that I felt his fingers dance along my back, and my hips involuntarily shot up. Not that they got far; his hard body pressed down against mine, restricting my movement. Then suddenly, his hands were gone.

* * *

_Dios_. 

My grasp of the English language is sound, yet I find difficulty in choosing words to describe the way I feel. If this is what I have been missing, then I have been a fool to wait so long.

She knew. Do not ask me how, but somehow she knew what we were missing. She tried to tell me so many times, but I did not listen.

I sure was listening now. I heard every moan that came forth from her lips, every sigh that she made as my hands explored her creamy skin. I could not believe that _I_ was making her feel this way.

I was able to kiss her with a hunger that I had held back for the past two years.

My hands rested on the bottom of her dress. It is a beautiful dress. It hangs so well on her. But tonight...it would have to go. I gently lifted it up over her head and threw it to the side. I did not see where it landed. I didn't care.

While I was momentarily distracted, she pressed her hands against my chest. I shuddered from the pleasure this caused. This is too much.

I pressed myself back into her so that she could torment me no more.

* * *

Thankfully his hands were not AWOL forever. They continued their work by pulling my dress over my head and throwing it across the room. I felt like complaining - this is one of my favourite dresses we are talking about here! - but I remembered why it is currently lying in a crumpled heap on the floor. And I suddenly didn't give a damn about the time it would take for me to iron the creases out. 

Especially when his lips began their journey south. And let me tell you, if I thought that his hands felt good against my skin, they were nothing compared to his lips and the feather-light kisses that he left. Despite the fact that I lay there in my underwear, I was beginning to burn up. And as far as I could tell, so was Jesse.

So, I did what seemed fitting...I slowly began to unbutton his shirt, allowing my fingers to brush lightly against his bare chest. The groan this elicited from him told me that he liked it.

As soon as the shirt went, I turned my attention to his jeans. But my fingers had barely grasped the top button when his hand covered mine.

"It's fine, _Querida_, I can manage," he told me. Oh no, he didn't.

"Jesse, I want to do this," I told him. "It's half the fun, now move your hands."

But Mr. Stubborn refused to comply. His hands remained over mine, even when I jerked them in a futile attempt to break free. One look at his face told me why he was being like this. So I laughed. He didn't want me to undo his jeans because he was afraid that I would...well, brush up against something slightly more sensitive than his chest.

"If you don't move your hands," I warned, attempting to sound serious despite being seriously...well, aroused. "I will make you wait until our first anniversary."

This, of course, was a hollow threat, but I knew that he wouldn't be willing to risk it.

It was amazing how quickly his hands moved to my back. I smiled in satisfaction as I rid him of the restricting denim article. Now all that remained was our underwear. And despite the thin layer of material between us, I could feel how ready he was. So I fell back down onto the bed and allowed him to take control once more.

His lips continued their quest as his hands fiddled with the clasp on my bra. Amazingly, he managed to get it undone and soon it was another article of clothing on the ever-growing pile on the floor. I noticed that he had paused for a moment once the lacy undergarment had been cast aside, but he soon recovered and his lips began to explore the area that had, until now, been covered by expensive lingerie.

A moan was ripped from me and his soft lips gently moved against my sensitive skin. That downstairs feeling returned with a vengeance and I felt my hips rise up again. But they didn't get far. His tongue swept across my breast, circling the extra-sensitive centre and sending a fresh wave of pleasure through my body. I had to bite back another moan when his lips _finally_ landed where my body so desperately wanetd them to.

He then tore his lips away from...well...there...and brougt them up to meet my own.

It is amazing how much the feelings between us have changed since we exchanged our vows. And it was in a good way. I have heard a lot of people say that marriage takes the love out of the relationship, that it is the highest level a couple can get to. But they were all so wrong. Because when he kissed me like he was doing now, I felt all the love he held for me and it sure as hell was no teenage crush. It was the real thing. It felt so good to know that someone I love with so much passion not only reciprocates my feelings, but matches them. I could actually feel tears in my eyes from the love he was pouring into this kiss.

When he broke off, I was almost heartbroken.

"I love you," I gasped, blinking to disguise my tears. He smiled at me and lowered his head so that his lips were brushing against my ear.

"I love you, too," he whispered, his fingers tugging down on my underwear.

This is really happening!

His underwear didn't stay on his body for too long, and soon we were both as naked as each other. My arm shot out and my hand desperately grabbed for the condoms, but al my fingers met with was thin air and the lamp. After laughing at this, Jesse reached out and took the box himself, selecting one packet and ripping it open.

I don't really know what happened next, only that once it was over his lips met mine once again.

"Are you ready?" He asked. "I don't want to hurt you."

I smiled at this. Even when he is hovering over me, completely naked, he is still a gentleman.

"Ready," I choked out. I knew that he would hurt me anyway. Not purposefully, of course, but CeeCee had told me that the first time is painful. Although she assured me that it was not as painful as people said. But tonight it was about me and him, not the pleasure.

...well, alright, not _completely_ about the pleasure...

But she was right. It was painful. And the first thought that crossed my mind as he gently eased himself into me was '_I hope this doesn't hurt as much for him._' Yeah, I'm in pain and all I can think about is how he is feeling. But that's love for you.

I can say this, though...it was incredible, despite the pain and discomfort. He held me during the whole act and whispered soothing Spanish words to me. I even started to cry at one point. Not huge sobs, but I felt a tear or two trickle down onto the pillow benath my head. They weren't because of the pain, like Jesse had thought. They were because of the emotional effect of what we were doing. OnceI informed my husband of this, he pressed his lips against my cheek and continued to move.

But, like I said, the pain took priority, despite numbing somewhat after a minute or so. But I wasn't disappointed. It wasn't like I was expecting anything physically amazing the first time. But the emotional effect was more powerful than I ever could have imagined.

It didn't take long for him to shudder and then collapse onto the bed beside me.

After a quick fumble beneath the quilt and a well-aimed throw, the condom landed silently in the waste bin. Once that was done, he moved closer to me and I could feel the heat radiating off his moist body. It was almost uncomfortable, yet I found myself moving into him and resting my headon his chest. Usually sweat repluses me. Like when Dopey has been working out then squelches into the kitchen for some cold water. Its enough to make a girl hurl. But I didn't mind Jesse's. Probably because I was quite damp myself. They weren't kidding when they said that sex is the best form of exercise.

Jesse lightly kissed my forehead before letting his head fall back against the pillows. We lay there in silence while I absent-mindedly traced invisible patterns on his chest. We were both breathing heavily, yet neither of us spoke a word. We were too afraid to ruin the moment. Instead, we allowed sleep to take us. I know for a fact that my smile did not fade with my conciousness.

Tonight was amazing, there was no doubt about that. And it was just the start of an amzing life. For us...together...against all odds. It's cheesy I know, but hey...I'm in love.

As I drifted into the dreamworld, I heard myself humming the tune to a song that so perfectly summed up tonight...

_"Sleepwalker seducing me, I dare to enter your ecstacy, Lay yourself now down to sleep, In my dreams you're mine to keep..."_

* * *

**AN - I hope that wasn't too bad :). It was my first attempt at anything like that... So be nice, hehe.**

**Yeah, so I'm rewriting the first chapter to my next story to improve it. It's about 50 done so expect it within the week. It's called Something Wicked (like I mentioned last chapter) and you don't have to read this or OTG to read it...it will either be in the horror/romance or horror/supernatural section...I will rate it T to start off with and see how we go from there.**

**Now I want to say a HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGE thank you to all of my reviewers and everyone who has been with me since I started OTG. You guys seriously rock! I can't believehow many reviews i got for the last two chapters, so come on...let's try to top that, lol. It's your last chance to review.**

**Disclaimer - I own nothing, nothing, nothing! Oh yeah, and the song Sleepwalker belongs to Nightwish.**


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